Misty air, gleaming stones.
Names etched above the bones.
Failures and victories collide,
Where lives ended now reside.
Darkened trees and gravel trails,
Lead to where our strength fails.
Grey skies remember our lie,
Saying never, never will we die.
This is the fate of those that sinned.
Our end comes, here we meet our end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely poem with thought revealed. Read mine - Who Am i - Adeline