My sentence is a form of heaven,
Enlightening the population persevering,
My words chill the bones and the spine,
My work is not complete this day.
My form of language commands a strength
Storing stealth with dexterity.
My heaven emits a radiance, of worthiness,
Kings are in the window of a heavenly home,
With doors inside and roofs atop,
Crystal avenues ring in tone,
Liking sentences wherever the accent.
My dextrous hands have worthiness,
Kids of the forest consider this occupation
Of such worthiness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem