Retracting light from prisms of a mind, focusing
beams onto poetry lines.
Rainbow-colored imagination grasping beautiful
thoughts from gray-colored words, turning them
into sublime subconscious awakenings in rhythmic
rhymes of tomorrow's destinations.
Quickly turning corners of darkness into velvet
feelings of sorrow, glistening on blackboards of
history, no longer carrying forward, pieces of
ancient puzzles.
They have been put to rest in filing cabinets
filled with dust, protected by spider webs across
their inner drawers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem