Is what I feel really real, Is what I see really meant to be, or just a mirage that stands before me?
Betraying an image to cover up of what may be, Yes, No, even Maybe,
This I may never know, lead astray, today, tomorrow, for many moon's but how will I know what has never been apprised?
Days turn cold nights turn colder, frostbite from words that have been froze,
I can no longer feel, left with questions unanswered...
Lost and infurious, my mind in a realm of insidious, left with only myself to interrogate, so I ask really what is and what isn't?
The known to be the unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem