Existing in what we think is real
in a normal predefined and set
we ask ourselves do we belong
or have developed minds have us be let
The callow sense of trepid thought
Does often cloud for what I stand
Filling voids with god and prayer
In the immoral normal land
Is this the prelude for what is to come
Or a break from or eternal rest
Was the plan for us to live at all
For risen spirits or soul to test
Though our primary aim it to conform
And fit in to what we think is standard
As the real is but a common norm
Hence be you, be free, step beyond it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem