What I want is considered audacious.
The running thoughts in my head are too loud, too loquacious.
Silencing them with a tone of truculence.
Bringing peace to the now quelled mind which is in balance.
The addiction to this chase is ardent.
With a sharpened focal point, I run a zealously rampant.
I'll never slow down, not even for a second.
Because the future waits for no man, I reckon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem