As the people die.
The hope fades.
Blood spills.
Only to be wasted.
The water turns to crimsonBlack.
Bloody waters.
No hope.
For the future.
To avoid.
The bitter.
Feeling.
Death will capture.
Your blood.
Will stain the oceans.
As the water turns to blood.
You slip out of my hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful and encouraging. Keep writing!