From where does the peace lie
in this happy dream
a nightmare in its too many freedoms
a death march in its too many days
A happiness with no peace
sleep with no rest
words warped in their cycle
of beginning to end
A dream much too real
golden aura wears a yoke
of a happiness too extreme
needing to recede in my nightmare
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem