Parallel Lines is a theory
Man will never truly make Parallel Lines
That sort of Perfection
Something we can't obtain
But, still desire
That place we'll never get to
But, keep searching for
The thing we'll never hold
Yet, we're still grasping for it
The thing we know exist
But, cannot find
That there's God
That light in the darkness
But, it's still dark
Your mind of all minds
And, you're nothing but heart
A feeling of company
With no friends to find
Always looking for something
And, only seeing signs
That there's God
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem