I write the confusion off my day upon my log
But I'm drifting.
Storms brew as calmness fades, grasping at nothing
My hands fill with air
I’m drifting.
Thoughts stun my mind come and go, their foot servants too
Too much confusion giving no release
I’m drifting.
A rift it appears can bridge the gap, but the hours is getting late
I can reach ill fall
I’m drifting
Chaos broils in the valleys of my mind
I’m drifting, I’m drifting
But never to sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice one, inner chaos is well protrayed