Waving canopies flying overhead as I wander through
ideas being sought by my poetical essence right now.
Accentuating the results of all endeavors, I cast
myself in areas of past darkness just to see what
will alight in a verse of adjustment.
Juxtapositionally figuring fourmulated designs into
concepts of cognitive thinking.
Focusing in many corners left to themselves, yet I
move into their darkness, allowing myself to motion
to inferior desires sitting with backs to my mind,
not wanting to be written in verses of past abuse.
Left alone to ponder their own situations, as I move
forward into joys of future tomorrows.
Searching edges of life, following intuition always
around corners of elevated promises and left
eventually stranded in lands of emptiness and
absolutely no promise to fulfill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem