I always said I would never take the magic carpet ride
Yet curiosity took hold and I had no place to hide
As I spiralled into a wonderland of my own surreal creation.
And here I awaiting Alice to return, here I remain
Burning the images I keep of her and praying,
Hoping for the ability to cope with lasting
Another age in anticipation of her presence.
I burn so that I may paint anew just as
Springtime green stems from winter blue.
She rises, Goddess of the blanket sky
She rises, the kiss of dawn in her eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem