Of Crystal, moisture, and Love's steamy tears
these words; are made of each one, and all
snows, all hot deserts, all truth's memory
is silently stoned; and a world we once
knew; as Earth, is just too far gone!
Full of pain; from the feelings, an
unquenching thirst. The life of
truth; now hidden, is soon
to be that illusion, it's an
illusion! Balancing upon
sands of softness, in shadows
everywhere there is illusion. In the
refuge, of thorns. All; is a bland illusion
of the truth now, no longer here! Something
broke; and within these broken, shattering pieces
within each of the clouds of everyday, the eyes of
sunshine, in my mirror, these things can be seen!
This world; this world of no boundaries, does
not sleep. And the stars appease the nightly
breeze'; as now and forever are so far torn. As
the winds of whomever; got up, and went gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem