My heart may beat to the beat of a different drum.
It can thunder and rage, as the whirling winds.
And as I climb that mountain which is at the highest summit.
I may fall a thousand times.
To reach for what I can not see.
To hope that one day no longer shall I succumb to the vanity.
Of a useless cause.
Inside that heart is a different song.
A barely audible hum.
That longs, and yearns to find.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem