Rhythms keep forming within my mind, giving tempos of
life an existence within intellect, enduring lines of
melodies are being played incessantly in undertones
of a deepening darkness.
When in the throes of another dimension, spheres are
revolving, taking me into the loneliness of a solitary
pilgrimage, filled with an emptiness.
That excludes all senses of love from within it's cir-
cumference, reality of times held together by memories
of cold winter nights, today being looked at in the
light when no one is around to see their significance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem