This is the world in which we are born
with thoughts and imagination forlorn
High up in the skies with rose buds and thorns
Thinking of the doomsday with the blowing of a horn
when the dead will come out of the slumber and be newly born
on every command of God to which we will be sworn
and will be given Heaven or Hell based on the path we carried on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That one was powerfully scary! great write