Where are your broken mirrors when you are left alone,
With no one upon your heart, no friends beside you, and no place to call your own.
Without a home, your life is torn and without reason,
Lonely and guilty are your last days through the final season.
You are the one who cast the first stone,
And you shall be the last to enter my throne.
Those that enter are none and few,
But what about the rest of you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem