Scattered amongst ourselves, are questions of eternal
doubt.
Frustrated by the lack of answers generated, knowledge
takes a back step, preferring to hide high upon aged
shelves not having to make a remark or cast about for
words that make sense.
Roused beyond mortal dreams, reflecting the gifts and
talents waiting patiently inside, counting on others
to fulfill our inner dreams without any work from us.
It will never happen, people lead themselves astray
with this wild thinking.
Instead, each should begin and end within their own
beings, not relying on anything, but personal experience
to find their way, and become the person they were meant
to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem