Are you sure am the one writing or am just whispering and they surface upon. Is it illusions that are captivating my soul or am I just sick. Seeking sympathy from the masses to read my sorry details. Did we meet so that we can even take the privilege and concave the opportunity to have this discussion. Who am I in anywhere where did I even come from. Or am I just overhearing anything and causing friction of words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem