Leaves, never-changing, holding the breath of life within,
grasping the frailty of being, wondering significantly about
the nature of life and death.
There are no promises made, no dreams traded, only bits and
fractions of hope or faith prayed for daily.
Many times not answered, prayers float around the heavens,
awaiting their time of fulfillment.
Colorful awareness set before us so we may be occupied with
thought, ideals sought, experience fraught with the exorbitant
routine from day to day.
Betrayed beyond all comprehension, placed in a tubular
dimension, unable to think or move.
Following sadness, frowning, falling into depression's abyss,
no way to avoid missing it's extreme.
There, watching all go by in a blur with no comprehension of
what life is about.
Purple-pink shadows, roaming and following throughout a
lifetime, never alighting or touching any part of me except
my soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think Nature would be quite happy with your poem