Imagining myself in my youth, 
Is just one lonely mystery, 
Unclear yet realized with truth, 
But that's far away, it's history. 
Including my dreams in the lost, 
Post-traumatic stress, inside just crossed, 
Over to another dimension. 
Creativity is just one ability 
Separated from the included translation. 
Spoken but not said, isn't productively, 
Communicated, illustrated, and demonstrated. 
Can you draw the picture of an image that is realized as 
The last transparent mystery.