I was dynamic and vibrant in those days
with warm tones of burgundy.
So many of us fallen off tonight,
Why this sun hardly shines nowadays?
Who's going to go next is unpredictable
Why we must fall, is still a myth
What happen to us when we are fallen?
I'm trembling, thinking it's unchangeable
a moist wind blew, cold and hostile
my voice broke off, I remember
I was covered with splendid morning dews
winter had come and I'm in exile.



Comments: 43
The poem is mournful and well-written
thanks, Justme,donna
Here is fall, loneliness and Pompeii for zoom it
Ash~:
Never fear passing or being alone. Neither exists, really.
Your article is Featured in the Triple Name Club.
Instead of fearing, enjoy what you have now....
Blessings to you, dear.
Sorry, but I must be honest.
I can feel the loss of your mother so keen in your spirit. And the sense of being far from home. I know both these feelings so well, having lost a father and brother and again living thousands of miles from my birthplace, since I could not find a job in Los Angeles (I would have tried to get in touch with you if I had been able to stay.) This poem is delicate, and breaks off in just the right place, like your voice.....
Sorry I´ve been away so long.