Poetry

I pondered miles of mountains and hills,
swum the oceans till I touch their ends.

I put my hand on flames till it turns to ash,
stared at the sun till my eyes turn blind

I scratched the skins deep till they bled.
Yes; I have done till I know what lies ahead;

-till I smell the fragrance of the pure dusk;
-till the graces show truth behind this mask.

And I let breezes drift through my soul and mind,
so may my God let me know what I left behind.

-Nr.