My hand couldn't tear away from scribbling
And I wondered what those cryptic glyphs stood for
That I myself designed a mystic code, it was puzzling
After I was through, I heard a loud knock on my door
When I opened the door, I was horror-stricken
At meeting the demon that haunted me in my vision
''Give me the script, on my support you can always reckon, ''
He said and went on, ''Otherwise I'll make a crucial decision''
''You can't frighten me into submission, we won't reach an accord
I will fight to the finish until one of us bites the dust, ''
I said, and picked up the feather which turned into a sword
Hoping that one accurate thrust into his heart wasn't a bust
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem