It turned to dust the
shell
of life you gave
in love to me
the movie
that all came to see
to watch
the hero die.
With one down
the
empty real
of love cut short again.
As lovers did so long
ago
each dry eye
brings forth a stream
before
the hero dies.
Holding hands we
wander out
through the dark
the corridor is
packed.
Out side the filmy veil
the mist
each head I see has
dropped.
No one here outside
of us
has watched a
hero die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent. Loving the last verse