I watch
the pale moon
rising
night in
night out
waxing
and waning...
I wonder, in death,
at which precise moment
my heart will stop -
whether all of my life
will be projected against my closed eye lids,
or whether I will run out of scenes before
time stops...
I contemplate this
as I fall into
the pale moon
night in
night out
waxing
and waning
to
nothing.
Dont go there Yuri I am there at the moment and its not a nice place good write though 10 chris
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good question - I wonder if we will really know the answer one day?