Unchained
Unheeded
Warning
Mourning
Soldiers left
on the field
to die
Try to
cry out but
voiceless
whimper catch
fire on a
roof of thatch
Scratching-post
Ailing ghost-like
presence in the
upstairs hall
A wisp of smoke
drifts up,
unseen until
ceasing to
exist at all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem