Thoughts never stop
Like flowers in a garland,
Or thorns in a crown.
They just go on
Pleasing and hurting
An endless cycle.
Sleep is so blissful,
Like a ceasefire in war,
Or a gunshot in the alley,
Soothing and scaring,
An escape from reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem