blinded by the wheels that turn
compelling rhythms hold my mind
hypnotic chanting ‘til all thought
assumes an endless stream
a functional but pallid pulse
bereft of heart or will
step out of whirring merry-go-‘round
before your soul is bought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great use of words, the imagery is deep. wonderful poem.