The Source Poem by huntress foryou
The Source
She is drawn to his source.
She knows damn well she
can not reckon with his force.
She yearns to speak to him
of her wants and needs.
Instead she feels childish and
confused.
It has been a long time since
she has played this game.
She approaches boldly and shyly
and whispers a greeting.
he folds her in his brilliance -
the warmth of him is good.
Then she is burned and
no more....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 9:09:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
