In my emotional mind, I've come up with this
Notion that just because that wonderful
Season has ceased,
Everything about us is
Changing. Threatening to
Unravel all we've done. I'm doubting again, not
Remembering to trust. Is
Everything true? Or am I just insecure?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Insecurity often derives from some root of truth in the subconscious. Interesting writing, if this is not a work of fiction, I hope all works out.