Following paths forsaken by others, learning to rely and
depend on themselves.
Knowing they are nothing but a speck of dust in the entire
universe of space and timelessness.
Withholding moments of existence, hiding them in depths of
their soul, unable to be reached by any other.
Quietly peaceful and serene, resting in the wisdom and
knowledge of creativeness.
Recognizing genius of imagination and focusing talents
possessed through a mind of unconsciousness.
A vast repertoire, an endless journey throughout life, all
begun and ended within a soul, contemplated and confirmed by
their very own existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem