'All my life it feels as if I am sleeping. Each day passes me by with no recollection of the events that have transpired. My past is a mystery, a mystery even unto me. I am lost in a hazy veil created by a swirling vortex of forgotten emotion. Where I have been, where I will be. Both questions are shrouded in the dreary fog of unsureness. But safe in thought, I will always be, for a thought is a thousand pasts, a million futures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem