Gleams of carnage passed a cold wave,
caressing and mincing what felt a sublime chant.
Staring by no means was a exemplary discourage,
only to unearth an acquired prick of tremble.
Embraced as it looked upon the compatriots,
the wily astounded preach seemed a circumspect destined.
Gazing as it passes the beauty of a crippled stare,
tensed situations and minced frustrations accomply.
Gruesome it called itself of with a proud disbelief,
negotiating itself in its wildest of acrobats.
I stand upright in an estimated posture to lean,
with tenure fresh and imagery extension of heart clean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I stand upright, good life.