Stimulating brain cells into action,
formulating signals in codes of
undetectable significance.
Following omens of formative ages,
hoping to shun them and hide away
for years, alone.
Swaying gently in time, forgetting
steps to pose questions on empty days
of execution.
Signing off with tell-tale opinions,
regarding obvious illusions on forth-
coming days and evenings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem