The mind is the scariest thing I know.
It is not like any darkness.
It is a transparent, life colour
Covering everything I am,
Like a murderous blanket.
It plays its own games to pass the time
Existing as deception, miscomprehension,
Between rainbows and storms.
From the sun-glazed hillside;
The sodden path to nowhere.
They say you should fear the dark,
The darkness of the mind.
What a load of putrid scatology;
It’s from skin to throbbing skull,
Everything that goes with it,
That makes the deep lake slowly ache.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem