Drawing the unknown or known nigh upon the heart, soul and mind. Is this surround of realism or is it a predestine that might overwhelm the future? Upon the joy and pain of the strain and stir that accumulate within the frame of mind. A watch upon the drawing nigh of times the unravel of the different pages of life. The absent of soul for awhile the recompose of thinking with an utmost engulf within the readjust of times.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem