The cease that never draws nigh the curtail of time that might suit the pursue of reason. If began an end is known to the walk upon the surface of the earth. Articulating the sight and foresight that revolves within the realms of the mind. Hastening the taste of times that might be of pain and joy. Unraveling the distant that draws nigh with a withhold and hold of the within the depths of the soul. To surface upon earth ingrain the beauty to nurture feelings and thoughts that accumulate upon life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem