The road stretches endlessly,
its curves hidden by mist,
each turn holding
a truth yet unseen.
Steps falter,
but the ground teaches balance.
The wind whispers softly,
not answers,
but questions that linger.
Mistakes carve their marks,
not scars,
but maps---
guides for the journey ahead.
Each moment passes,
unfolding, dissolving,
leaving behind
only the weight of understanding.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem