As darkness cannot speak,
it hides the mysteries.
What does the night conceal?
My eyes cannot break through
the wall of blind deceit
beyond the Universe.
I see the moon and stars.
I hear the patient wind.
I feel the emptiness.
At either end of time,
there lies an ink black stone,
containing all that is,
where all that ever was,
and all that there can be,
awaits the catalyst.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are many mysteries hidden in this universe just like the darkness.. Well penned