The time has come
it is empty and what you feel is the hollowness
of space
buried underneath its
gut
directions become nothing
plans turn into dry leaves
the future is just a word that you utter
i have no ears and my eyes
dream of nothing but the closeness of
fading
i am no longer a strange of all these
i know myself and my heart has ten hands
embracing
all that i have spoken
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem