Untrusting matter
Of a nervous state
Sweating dry motions
In a whirlwind of thoughts
Always storming self
Through night and day
So what is a matter?
We all are
If that means anything
At any time of the week
Weary from the first day
If only these thoughts
Could find refuge
Far away from disarray
All is normal
In a weird way
It's so lonely
Thinking so differently
But hey
There has to be light
At the end of the tunnel
The story of myself continues on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem