I paint meaningful mental imagery that must be delineated.
To overcome my moronic obstacles they must be obliterated.
This style of writing induces acceleration of mental stimulation.
My ideas don't spark; they kindle into an incandescent inspiration.
They doubt me, but fail in trying to understand me.
My inner light illuminates bright, but is blinding to a certain degree.
People seem so scared of reality.
Living a treacherous life forces you to realize your mortality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem