I saw you at the other side.
I listened as you repeatedly lied.
I watched you as you slowly died.
I heard you as you desperately cried.
And in this war-torn land of falling fridges.
Of merry-go-rounds and Atlantic ridges,
You’ve walked your path,
To face Hell’s wrath,
And those flames are burning your bridges.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thats mad meaning for such little words.. I love this. pure wrath. truth. and justice. Love, Missy