Dusty roads
and a stoney pavement,
ruins of past and of present;
a traveler lost
in the desert of a sea,
scorching sun and blazing fire
to which end can one go
of a forlorn desire
in the search
of his identity
to the ends of the world
or of the dead sea,
no means to undo
the unending misery
of lost hope
and lost tranquility.
Somewhere in this chaos
exists peace,
a calm
but the cost of finding it
is losing one's own self,
becoming a face unknown...
11.08.2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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