And the bright red-orange
of the fire of life
dims.
Slowly, slowly, ,
not to the glowing red
of dying embers
but to the darker, blood-red color
of the wounds of life.
Which darkens further
to the purple of night
which becomes black
with a sigh.
a beautiful sunset takes your breath away and leaves you..'with a sigh'...your imagery is always great.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
HOPELESS.... u should not for every tomorrw theres alwaz a hope tho colors turned to dull nd to black n the future but alwaz in mind, ur brain is on ur head, , , u r the one who made urself who knows more about urself so, , , sigh? dongive it a chance. naizz