So you hold me with your scorn
In a cage
Until the morn
Comes bursting through the sky
And crackles a fiery dawn
Have years of locked up rage
Wispping in the wind
With a dancing purple sage
The sweet nectar of love
Has forsaken us
But luck just keeps turning my way
Have a heart made of black
And grey steel
Where the spirals lead us
To reveal
The underlying mistakes
That lead me into hate
But I stepped off, the battlefield
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem