10: 28 p.m.
Prancing around deep within imagination, looking over
imminent reflections shining brightly through all of
the sequences on life's stairways.
Traveling up and down amid fallacies of this life, finding
no more what was once all mine to hold throughout the years.
Being singed, taken apart, ashes strewn about, recognizing
nothing between the empty pages that have crept upon this
mind.
Recriminating exercises, vague, transparent, yet so very
complicated, taking this mind into tunnels of muffled
expressions.
Understanding that everything has been rearranged to fit
the retrospect of aging, fitting it within boxes of used
spare parts no longer viable.
For life has progressed beyond yesterday through updated,
modern technology, gaining materialistically, yet losing
peace of interior solitude at times of great discomfort.
Disturbances taking us into the darkest nights of our
soul's lives and leaving us alone to fend for ourselves.
(10: 30 p.m. - 11/16/14)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem