It's hailing rain,
And sleeting snow.
But my eyes aren't open,
There's so far to go.
I'm fighting a battle,
I know I can't win.
I'll end up in Hell,
For countless sins.
According to Dante,
I'll end up a tree.
Oozing venom-blood,
In grave agony.
But you'll go to paradise,
Have fun and farewell.
My walk with the dead,
Didn't end so well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem