I cannot be myself
for my days are interrupted
by sweeping darkness -
for a reason I have yet to understand.
A time void.
I feel suspended,
floating, set in a never-land.
Unable to draw a conclusion.
My voice is silent -
as are all other makers of sound.
I feel only the rhythm of passing time
pulsing in my ears.
I see nothing through my veil
pretending, perhaps, life matters not on either side.
I want to cry out: "Where is this light, the light that shines, but never for me? "
Suddenly holes appear,
darkness peppered with fingers of light
tearing through like bullets,
they stand and wave like charmed snakes.
Though my light has returned
I feel even more confused.
For there is not just one beam, but many.
Too much strangeness questions the existence of reality.
Maybe darkness has its rewards after all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem