Fifteen times have I walked this path of light
Retreating to the dream my dearest reside'
In this desolate land 'Veritafree', sleeps the twilight with a thousand eyes.
Shh, speak softly of her name
This place a shy maid, not a shout be made.
Tread careful in this land.
Morpheus' veil but thin air,
And the real world lurks so near.
To my right the bleak moor howls
Left dwells the blue sea dangerous in its peace
I walked the thin line in between,
a traveller passing through or returning?
Veritafree, my holy land
Where it ends where it begin'.
Where it quiets down where it should wake up and sing.
Shh, speak softly of her name,
Lest it catches you, the truth's sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem