Most ambition starts with a dream,
And never ends when the night brings,
A wicked thought in a natural stream,
Fantasy is not seen when the alarm bell rings.
The chimes of reality try to awake you,
But you are lost where pain can't be seen,
And correction is too hard for heart to renew,
Everyone you thought was so highly esteem.
Some wore terror, others brought boredom,
Come to use you for another adventure,
Duplicity is a two edge sword of persecution,
And carries a frown reflected in the mirror.
We can always find time to laugh or weep,
Bliss, marriage, occupation appear discreet,
When the pieces are broken they cut deep,
And the mourners go about the street.
A house of mirrors has broken cracks,
They widen and will not procrastinate forever,
Before shattering into small magic pieces,
And the original beauty is lost altogether.
Most fearful dreams appear in a nightmare,
The puzzling prize penetrating the mind,
But it's not the terror you and I should fear,
Rather, the Apocalypse of another kind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the first three stanzas have the beautiful flow! the following three talks from different direction! still I like both with my whole heart!