Soon it will not matter
All the illusions that were my days
When that which came from out the deep returns to clay
As we strive to live the scripts that we absorb
And discover all too often dynamic traitors to our deeper selves
Life a vastly more simple place with out our schemes
And God or time provides the energy that comes with other dreams
To help grant this world's night
A sliver of beauty's poetic light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem