I woke up to see that it was dark all around me,
Locked inside of a trunk I came to be.
Tasting something sweet between my teeth,
My mind thought of treasures to bequeath.
An apple within my mouth was nestling,
It was the only object that kept me from screaming.
I came to realize that I was headed to my own destruction,
For I was becoming the ingredients of a recipe to my only assumption.
I could hear the voices of people that came and went,
Some confessed their sins to me and others spoke of years spent.
But will these people still see me,
Looking and listening but unable to be.
Sometimes I can hear them but they always disappear eventually,
Then the images of their illusions visit me often by my own
actuality.
In my mind through the dementia I know that they are all very real and true,
Because given any time within every day the delusions have always brought me back to you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem