Sometimes the void is something so bright
Filled with a most impetuous light
However when one peers intently there
From its center do they find there soul but a hair...
If it winds to the world
The world returns the favor
And in knowledge through age hurled
Man grows ever knaver..
Once, I thought
Till mind bought
And last
Is nasty.
Somehow
Nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem