The evening is the only road left.
Yet, again and again
We get lost.
The appeased soul.
We know we betrayed
So many of the 'I' that we were,
Yet, remained faithful to some.
Aged years.
Inside us: the great avalanche:
The walls that used to be world.
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From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deep and beautiful. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH. Kingsley Egbukole