In a dream, a dream, a dream
I walked through a raging fire
With flames the blackest of black
I felt no cold nor heat by their touch
But the eyes, the eyes watching me
I felt a feeling swell and die
Saw the world in full horror
In decay and demise and death
The world is a dying place
Filled with hate, envy and greed
Upon which the blackest flames
Dance, rage and scream
With a horror they scream aloud
Like a banshee calling
To death, while death is watching
I walked through a wall of fire
Where the flames were black
Darker than the night or shadows
All the while I felt nothing
Nothing but the eyes upon me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great Poem. Liked the part where you said the world was a dying place. It is just an excellent poem. Good Job