The inexorable motion,
Of clandestine whiteness.
Permeable solids of,
Effervescent blindness.
Within is silence,
Without nothing is seen.
Belief must be held,
To pass through purgatory.
Faith is needed,
For one doesn’t know
If they will make the other side.
However,
This faith and
This belief,
Are not what one would expect them to be.
For,
Within the inexorable motion,
Of clandestine whiteness.
Throughout permeable solids of,
Effervescent blindness.
Within is silence,
Without nothing is seen.
All that is known…
There is you,
And
There is me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem