it comes from wandering the dark
the lonely wood at evening time
like exiting a matinee
to step into the white sunshine
the cloister of the somber moon
can tarnish so the heart of man
that he is blinded by the light
to struggle lost without a plan
some must heed the shadowed glen
a primal garden of the soul
and mystic notions of the void
the outer darkness and the cold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem