Listening to the lonely whistle of the train going
down the track, taking my life with it on lonely
solo journeys into tomorrow's past.
Walking in the steps of yesterday's beliefs, not
knowing what to do today as I lie on edges of
reality.
Afraid that I won't be able to be transported to
another land beyond what my mind can contend with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem