I can’t or simply don’t wish to recall this to be dream or truth
That of the language in picturesque translations so uncouth
Familiar faces buried in the grave yard of distant memories
In draconian realism as mists of times in shallow contingencies
The knowledge of recognitions remain in depths of a past
Foundered for the one of the dark night’s shadow cast
That bares comforts like silk of blackest encapsulations
Though wishing as for the solitude of sleeping adorations
If the stars be bright then an illumination is too far alone
As my soul turns to the cold of wind liken to that of stone
Reminiscing for the last words of the beloved mortality
That all shall fulfil as the downfall of humanities incurability
I wipe my eyes clean with the bloodied cloth of sincerity
That I may look further with the guilt of my soul’s judiciary
Founded in the sentencing by social ambiguous complexity
Longing for the freedom of nothingness as for ambiguity
As better the silence of loneliness embraced for longing
To enrapture my physiology in entireties so now completing
For the yielding of time that ages my skin but not my faith
Encouraged I am in my inclusive strength to never bequeath
That I shall never forsake as I enter the graveyard of memories
As my weeping children’s tears nourish flowers in repertories
That of the fertility far reaching from my soul doth gravitates
Warm my stone in mortal embrace as a signature advocates
Endured for the echoes of voices of the blurring shrouds
Past me by like the opposite direction of pathway crowds
For the times of treading forever forward in connotations
Suggest to my reflection of past mirrors; that of self absolution
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem