What is it impedes us
in our quest for perfection?
What demon misleads us
to take the wrong direction?
We know where we're heading,
feel inspired by the vision
yet find ourselves treading
the dark road to perdition.
We dream of creating
some kind of Utopia
but we are still waiting.
Is it just myopia?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem