Mephitical thoughts screaming in agony, killing slowly,
images not good enough to last the test of time.
Procumbent ideas lying upon a rock of indecision,
hoping to be chosen in a pompous style of reformation.
Soundless resonant beauty is being asphyxiated by
stifling foraging of meanings beyond knowledge and it's
reason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem