You think that you are all of that.
You just don't know I will attack.
I freaking hate you, I wish you were dead.
Can't believe i haven't cut off your head.
Your presence makes me so damn mad;
To make me happy is to make you sad.
I cry with tears of angry passion,
because my feelings have no ration.
I can't believe you told me that;
You just don't know I will attack.
I cry with the passion of the lost love
as that of separated turtle doves.
I said that I wish you would die
but who knows, maybe, I Just lied.
You're just as beautiful as night and day,
and all I have is this last thing to say:
I truly think you're all of that;
I hope you know I won't attack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem