When I allow myself to catch a peek
The endless, tireless, relentless self of
I become I feel an unparalleled frenzied
It's the strife that creates
That feeds my craving soul
I pause for a day, maybe two, a week...there is serenity
But no serendipity.
there is sullenness and withering,
no conjuring of eclectic forms of art,
no reaching for clever words to twist into remarkable half-spun tales.
Just rest...a sagging mind.
Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Wake.
How long can I resist tempting myself again with your spark of dilemma.
Give just a crumb from your plate
And I will re-emerge consumed with the breath of dragons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem