Once again,
And twice last year
Stoned, drifting past doors,
Closed, locked, secure.
Here and there
The hall curves,
New colors and schemes
A new existence.
Quietly, up ahead
The last door
To be opened,
The only one that will.
The journey can be vicious,
But someday, we'll awaken.
And then...
Hallelujah! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
and then, and then, I love it! Warm regards, Theodora O