Strange and eerie melodies playing thoroughly in the midst of
evening.
Softly taking strides into another purpose of life, watching
every stairwell as I quietly climb into another place of time.
Only being a particle placed in a puzzle, to be left broken
apart, scattered all across the floor of my mind, one day to
be found in the annals of time magazine.
Reveling in what it thinks it has become, only to be undone
in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem