the sun shine is so bright,
i can see the light.
in the night i am not cold,
there is a story that must be told!
high above the world they stand above the rest
piling their plates hight on the fest.
abused and wronged childern look on their shatterd yuth
a shatterd mirror shows a shatterd truth.
they were worriors once of legend and myth
now with their rusted blades and spears they show us a history
the world has ended befor
when come their times return the gods and goddesses of yore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem