Reeling across plains of scattered beats,
keeping time with traipsing melodies.
Faltering nevermore on standard measures
of infinity, taken to graves marked by
stony tears.
Gathering blossoms of death as we wend
our way through non-ending paths, of
living.
Traveling through desert scenery, pending
tomorrow's dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem