The guilty asses of the criminal masses await their destinies to be read.
Streams of cries from remorse laden eyes, dried by sullied hands that fed.
Prison lullabies go unsung nor any crimson tongue, shall soften a jailor's cell.
An accrued balance due for the cruel malice ensued, engraving each victim that fell.
Do chains and bars, surcease pain and scars from the agonizing throes of death?
Justice will surely arrive while sinners prey to survive, the poise of Libra's breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! What an intense and poignant, well written poem this is! Pain, remorse, malice and scars that have marred the innocents, will be dealt with by the scales Libra's balance of justice. Simply amazing poem! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
Your welcome RoseAnn. It pleases me knowing you've read it.