Intrepid mysteries piling up at the doorway to intellect,
giving auras of insightful beauty.
Tantalizing memories are echoing about, wanting to be
relived for moments in time, alone, being opened to them-
selves only.
Noticing many delicacies awaiting ingenuity, as life is
being fulfilled with a presence of mind.
Continually filling it with everything that has been seen
throughout life, traveling and morosely taking it's
suffering and trials, ripping and tearing me apart while
waiting to one day enter heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem