Opened eyes see clearly to reveal,
All there is for one to know.
Words whispered in ears,
Are only spoken to cloud the vision
Of a truth that appears.
To convince what is seen
Is an illusion.
And fear,
Is often impeccably dressed.
Either to charade or masquerade.
Or
Perhaps both.
In a flawless presentation.
As if to address one's interpretation of perfection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem