For it was told to be lunatic,
For it was told to be myth,
The skin of facade has been peeled,
And nothing can reverse, for it was late to stop.
The ticking clock sang through the hall.
The tapping foot's ambiances called tremor.
The breath of the new day had come.
To celebrate the new fear, that brought joy.
The clear sky called for celebration.
For the new world has born.
Yet the future and the past cannot be seen.
The joy can still remain in the present.
For no one cannot see it, how it will be?
Then, for whom shall the world exists?
Will it be a paradise? Will it be doom?
Will it be a world full of curiousity?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
First, English is not my language I also translated my work into English second, I think your works is good the words that you chosen are very good and poetic and I love it this is lovely poem keep writing