For it was his time to rest,
He had fought with the best.
She caressed his body,
As he took his last breaths,
Melting in her embrace,
And hiding his face...
No enemies to fight,
No friends did remain,
In him, she was there,
In her, there was pain...
But before he laid,
He bought a knife.
And with a fine thrust,
He slid it inside,
And then it burst...
Black poison it flew,
Like a river he once knew,
And corrupted the land,
He fell on the sand,
And with a smile on his face,
He slept in her embrace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem