We felt fear to the uttermost:
A man feared more than any ghost,
Whose army of loyalists and allies
Worshiped him and believed his lies;
They were ready to fight in his name,
Voices of treason, faces of shame;
They killed and killed till it was known,
News were spread, corpses were shown;
Despair, then, traveled to every head:
No one is brave, all souls are dead;
Misery was brought to every door:
Bodies are bruised, we are all poor;
The night approached as the sun escaped,
Silence prevailed under the endless shade
Until a boy did say a word,
His head was cut off by a sword;
We cried and cried for his life,
Though we were dead, he was alive;
For a death may change what life means:
Life is more than just blood in veins;
Cause a living person who chose to hide
Worth less than a dead one who didn't abide;
We obeyed and prayed for fear to go,
The boy's only crime was that he said 'No.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem