A cold wind of breeze
Follows me to a grave
I look at the tombstone
And see a cavred name on it
It reads:
'What is life?
Life is something people make it out of
Not in a piles of Deaf
But in a plies of Lies
Everyone is blind
Although it's only the good guys
Not the bad guys.'
Then I fell to my grave
As the name carved my name:
'The Foolish man who seeks Life'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem