Started as Cinderella,
Filled with grace, charm,
And an umbrella.
Grew up a Princess,
Made up gold, built up
Her palace.
Moved away, left it all behind.
Gave it all away, lost and found.
Yo-yo on fight with self.
Protecting the essence,
From imaginary extravagance.
Made love with others,
With passion regardless.
Making love, loving,
Sensing, missing…
A Soul and a Body,
A shell of its own,
Why would she need any other one?
Yo-Yo fight a misbelieve.
Peace of Self the best to achieve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Existence comes first. The essence comes later.'