Sour moments, sores galore
if only I could soar
into the zones of
unmitigated tranquility.
Soar how would I
bogged down as I am by
baggages of yore and the
bondages of the present.
Resent to whom and
rescind to where to unwind
and unload to remain
resolute in face of redundance.
I want to soar from the
surly to the surreal
world where surely I would
drop my anchor and stay put.
Platitudes of transient peace
could no longer befool me.
I want to soar or else
surely I will despise despair.
And will slyly pass on artificial
dreams of a soar into my being
and will remain intoxicated forever
in that hallucinatory world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem