Inner tangents being smoothed like glass with water flowing
constantly over them.
Portraying intrepid sights of noncommittal, while holding
onto threads of a bare existence.
Sensing an emptiness crawling on all fours, lurking behind
closed doors, keeping hidden from those who dare to tread
upon innocent souls out of greed and malice.
Non-conforming, exciting life's shores in a storm of
intellectual reasoning, subconsciously.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem