Fighting for strength to keep moving through trials of today.
Keeping still, listening, lighting candles to see where I have been.
Searching halls for reminders of myself in etchings of the past.
Stringing along images, pasting them on corridors of eternal sincerity.
While they continue to fall off and get stepped on by tomorrow's insistence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem