He created the sea
He created the moon
He made the heavens
For eyes to see.
Hexadep of his glory
Speak of his glory
He knows my mind
He sees my heart
He created a soul
So I could not hide.
Guard my heart with care
Knowing what ought to be done
Not picking on you until am done
Even if I run it still catches me
No matter how I hide
It finds me.
Is it true?
Where atr thou, my conscience?
My mind?
My heart?
It pricks on me?
No! Should I stay?
Nay! Albeit I wait!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem