A chilling silence befell the room
the doors fly about with a hurendous boom
a man steps forth, almost glowing
followed by a women with a stare that is woeing
the holy stranger and the horned herione they were named
for their pilgrimage the will be famed
on a quest, on a mission, they gave no answers
not a word, no blasphemes nor swears
the angel and the demon had but one thing to say
we are here to warn ye, for the devil's horde heads this way
they left as they came
with a clash of light and flame
they sat atop a hill waiting for the tides to turn
they sat atop the hill, and watched the city burn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Meaningful write...well composed...the good-advisors and the bad-doers always escape unhurt...thanks Collin...10