As I journey through the Naraguta valley,
I shudder at the thought of the darkness that looms ahead
Teeth sharp as aged swords, a figure so gruesome
The miseries of a world filled with dark sciences
The chemistry behind this light world,
A paradox in the face of reality
As the window gates close in this ruffly city
I see a princess, rudderless and lost
The blade men, they dry the pump house of the reddish ocean
Swinging their jaws like incisor mountains
Deriving Joy from lonely cemeteries
Oh, neither shape of light!
In China, they are known as the Bat people
In Africa, they are the dark lords
And in Europe, they are the white lords
Shapeshifters and shadows of time
These beings, we know them as zombies
The prime figure of ugly shadows
Walking with them, mortal dust in the wind
I do it with all my heart melted in fear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem