Build it again right at the center of technology.
Tear down old barb wires fencing the heart.
Bare a transparent facade before critical eyes.
Break a window. Leave it broken forever.
Shut the doors of has been and what if.
Paint these four walls as if there is none;
Or with pastel colors, or vibrant dreamlands.
Create symmetry - left/right, top/bottom.
Pull out the stubborn weeds in the brain.
Transform gardens of the head into libraries.
Vacuum the carpet of the soul, and ceiling too.
Sanctify it like a temple of refuge.
Replace the bed sheets with the softest cotton.
Fill the table with fruits. Add chairs for guests.
Turn on the divine radio that sings eternally.
Ensure to myself that this is my best craft ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Show me the bling ..not the bleet....so sweet was your song carried long...Thank you...>>: : :) it(