It’s the words that blends into time
scheming of what should rhyme
but its reality that begins to linger
on who is the actual singer
In time we ponder
why words we seek lay dormant in slumber
making us wonder
which word shall rise in flawless embers
Unknown to time but to us
we follow the line
seeking for what we must
straining against what faintly shines
Words that mount in number
takes time to seek
in this time we let hours wake
but not enough for minutes sake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem