Emerging from this timeless tomb of desperate ironies
I too, feel
intuit
know my perceptions are biased
towards the unreal
I forgot to remember you have to come down slowly
from the isolation of the soul
Can't let go now
Want to bathe in the light
to burn deep scars into my memory
to never lose this
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think I'm biased toward the unreal as well.