Glory Poem by Mark Ruiz
Glory
Feel her on your fingertips,
As she lingers, cold and dry.
Taste her in your mouth,
As she dances, dances the dance of death.
Hear her whisper your name,
Mockingly, like a lover long forgotten,
See her faintly on the horizon,
Shrinking day by day, second by second.
Catch her scent once more as she passes you by,
For who knows how long
'till you hold her in you arms again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 7:53:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
