the fight for the soul
like rock-n-roll
goes on and on
day after day,
sometimes it's a breeze,
it comes with ease,
other times...
there's just no freaking way -
the funny thing is
that most of the time
is spent between
the two;
it's not really
up
it's not really
down
not good
not bad
it simply was,
and just is.
it's kind of like
waking and sleeping
at the same time...
a dream within a nightmare
a blessing within a curse...
and, well maybe
it doesn't really matter much; but,
I suspect that it just might,
for it feels like both
a great labor
and a great rest, all
at the same time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very well stated, Smoky!