The sizes of souls big or small,
Tinted in white or black,
Illuminating in the night or day,
Screaming as the waves of the bay,
The souls of dinosaurs absolved or free,
Catalyst the actions to go agree,
Screws at the joints strong and glee,
The souls of the living in eerie,
Shivering in pretending holy,
Keeping the secrets of life and its mystery,
Someone holds the remote to play and be happy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
... someone holds the remote to play.. pretending has no meaning and no secrecy is from Him. Great write.