my own intelligence
does not serve me
resigned upon a certain
bleakness
i am into a break
on a broken piece of
glass
where i see a face in
shatters
the heart copes up
with some hues
like the northern lights
like star dusts
that realm that we touch
beyond our comprehension
that faith that we keep
beyond the fences of good reason
one wonders
why we have lived in comfort so far
why we have become
unlike the restless rest?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem