I reach to grasp, my hands pass through.
The words evade, they are but smoke.
Thought has escaped, it is far gone,
My witless mind can work no more.
Past is slowly slipping away,
Future melts into the present.
I cannot know what this may mean
For reason wanes as does my mind.
Reality fades, disappears,
As fantasy takes brutal hold
Of weakened state, then recreates
The world which I will know no more.
Colors replace the sordid grays
That stood so long in des’prate hope
This day would come, to whisk away
The mind which held me prisoner.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem