Confronting life on my own terms, not afraid nor backing down,
altering thoughts of wonder and beauty, becoming too involved
in many different moods of worthless cunning.
So Incidental, the mere mention of a whispered sorrow aimed
at heaven.
If things were meant to be any other way, that's how they
would be in the first place.
Not able to define boundaries if I haven't any to determine
or secure.
Fixating a solitary soundless echo in the farthest reaches
of my mind, calculating the distance that must be breached,
in order to finish the last particle of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem