Would it torture my mind
Of things I know not
If I was dreaming of things
Yet to come
Would it leave me at peace
Like a newborn at sleep
Or would I awake with-
The energy & fight of many
If I dare face my fears
I might well see the tears
Of tired roaming dreams
Taunting my hungry soul
If I was free or condemned
The dreams won’t cease
Of the things I regret dreaming
Coming back like lightening
To awake with no end
And to sleep with no rest
Like a tired fawn being chase
It’s dreaming to a countless end
Of things I know not
Of which dreams are made
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem