I look at the world.
I seek within myself.
Is it all an illusion?
Do I live,
or do I let live?
No answers.
Only questions
for the confused, the deaf, and the dumb.
I give myself
and I take.
Yet there is nothing but illusion,
and reality
a thief of change.
A breath is change.
What comes in
transforms into change.
But out of the breath
what comes?
The trick of nothingness
and change.
To hear,
to feel,
to interact
when the thing is real.
A doomsday device cannot harm.
The keys are locked
and the mechanism
too impossible to solve.
You are trapped inside
until you realize
you never existed. 🌑
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem