Traveling fast up and down
highways of madness motorway
gleaning and gleaming from the grounds
where it is that I stay
Moving but never arriving
forwards through final destinations
Ruins from the past my present viewings
as with the nations
Coming to consider worth
things of beauty
those of mirth
To blot out the ugly
through those that obscure
my view of life
to find a cure
so to a lasting decent death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem