Following flowing lines of possibilities on Friday
milestones of unperturbed delays, carousing on edges
of frayed beginnings of timeless aging.
Thinking along sideways abysses, trailing on overrun
pathways to heaven.
Likely aspects and facets of tomorrow are being
separated and looked over, to see if there are any
fascinating pledges to overcome, while exhausting
plenitude.
Rising and slipping down mountainous abodes, trickling
like water being squeezed by rocks downstream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem