This picture seemingly projected an obvious occurrence; displayed hard action as commonly known when viewing the various features: felt deep this strange about cast dread, holding onto something that just wasn't right.
The picture is a vision of people interacting with each other, moving to and fro about each other, doing normal endeavors: absent myself from sensing all perfect, set ideas, something peculiar.
I'm communicating with them by talking, answering any questions I can, removing any doubt: trapped in this silence wondering, closing the wall of suspension about what's actually happening.
Their faces watching me peering directly towards me; seemingly to them, being the major event I am: denying their smiling glances upon me, doubtful, that assures nothing.
I don't recognize any of them moving about me; thinking to myself once again, this is surely a trap: finding no escape from the itch, only tight closed doors, from this apparent dreaming nightmare.
I frantically searched the room for any exit, try to break what presented as the norm, eventually coming upon my probable freedom: taking a final gasp of things before opening that door.
I stepped outside into my thought wanted freedom, view this normal street and buildings I knew: relive in mind, still uncertain, each factor, I was finally getting closer to solving this maze.
As I reached the street corner, I found a big surprise; covering a vast region of streets and buildings, beholding a tremendous gigantic dome: knowing fully now I didn't belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem