Visiting minds, collecting thoughts, preparing paths
towards fulfilling life.
Unheard of ideas navigating their way through past
memories, seeking refuge in the mainstream of a mind.
Piloting narrow lonely roads, circumventing words,
searching for clues unspent in the totality of unread
inventions, filled with unspoken sentences.
Resting slightly on never-ending displays of strength,
forgetting daily intakes of overlying breath.
Forgotten are the words of explanation, buried beneath
the sandy knolls, white markers tell sad stories of a
life known once before.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem