The devil may be older
But my generation is far stronger
I know my cord! ! !
Far before Abraham
And the you, you are now
Every masquerade died a donkey age
I was indeed a man in His sight
At my time, the atmosphere was pure
Until the light became lighter and blur
I seek to secure my soul
But the fact is, I wish I could fight
To stay behind and carry every child
My rising soul reaches its V-max
Far apparent and heavier than
My wrinkled flesh and dying bones
My legs and hands were weaker
My voice was slow, deep and cracked
My ears heard sounds; mute and loud
It was by 9: 30
Within the slightest flash
They turned off the light
My soul was free, not held tight
Now I felt, what it was like
Being in Abel's shoes
Death!
More cruel
And heartless than his brother Cain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem