Time wreaks an unceasing itch
Onto lonely burden of my thoughts
Oft librates dense on the brink
As libations are poured into totes
Of discernment - carking strings
Basic to logic and meaning's rotes,
But doubt snakes her wings
Into the core of heart and soul!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem Mavinda Thank you for sharing Mario Odekerken