A little space for my dreams
Brain waves through time
When they need to have an ideation during
A theta state
So thundering and warm
A little space with gleams
Shining down upon all
My dolefulness
Ending my confusion
Relieving me
Of my ashed hell of compulsions.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem