I'm counting eighteen dots,
on the ceiling again,
one at a time,
looks like the two towers,
are failing under a clear blue sky,
am I losing my mind,
as they descend,
trying to connect the dots,
in my head,
but it just doesn't seem right,
with the light on all night,
will this ever end,
how does chaos complete itself,
leaving only disarray,
mayhem abandon no shelter left to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem