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 myself really what is and what isn't?
The known to be Unknown...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem