Why tread upon love, upon joy
and leave behind but snowfall?
And what about silent angels
seeking their dreams cast-off?
They read, desperately whispering,
in thoughts of days long gone.
There are books, open,
and yet filled with mystery
hidden in all those spots empty,
which cannot be read without comprehension.
Who hears the weeping of unsung beauty despite laughter?
Angels of Fallen Dreams © Ladanseuse
Transl. „Andělé padlých snů“, written in 1998, edited in 2021