Tears burn my eyes,
Wetting the deserts,
Which have for so long remained dry that,
It feels almost peculiar to feel the wetness,
Though as to why I have no answer.
Hurt sears my heart,
Melting the chambers,
Which have for so long remained stone that,
I almost did not recognize the agony,
Wreaking through me, it was heartbreak.
Inside, cracks appear on stone,
From which poured lava,
Boiling and bubbling,
Forcing me to do things,
I'll regret later.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heart burns. we are left with remains. simple and sweet. Try reading my poems.