Everything seems to fade away,
My soul has stopped breathing.
Endless buffets were days,
Air the night kept beaming.
Next dawns had to be staunch.
The future held a meaning:
Alive to discover the bunch
Of secrets TV would tease me.
When I stepped into reality,
Humidity triggered heaving,
The nature to actuality
Is all but artistic-leaning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem