I listened to you
and i understand that islands are islands
unless
a catastrophe happens
like the way how continents are formed
how ice melts
and how track disappear
but i cannot listen to you forever
not believing anything that you are saying
i have my back behind the wall and i am opening the door
i am walking away and there is no hope for any stay
i listen to myself but just like me listening to you
how long can i listen to myself too?
what road to take? i do not really know and so
this time, perhaps, any road will take me without being dizzy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem