A future always shown as reachable,
Blinds the will of the soul
And leaves the mind frozen in the desert.
Hollowed on the ground for which he stands.
By the day's looming hours,
He wanders and wonders the plains of existence.
The night's lonely hour,
Fades him into lost dreams and hope.
That is an eternity short lived
By empty moments spanning a lifetime.
As memory best serves, however,
It was this home inside forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem