By kenj
Layers in between free wills lay
The question of life how real is?
A dream but long as it sounds
We are all used to the short one
After each night a morning comes
Since nights associated with sleep
Like in a coma to lay once in deep
Wake up takes place after each nap
Within a lie as a story our lives are told
My thoughts are blowing for an exit
Incapable of expressing the inner self
Whom shall I the soul 's key to give
After death a need for the lock to solve
Free wills made the choice hard for mind
A seesaw between the layers are made
First; the scale, according to the conscious;
There beneath,the drives lay; unconsciousness
Mhk
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem