The spider ate the fly,
captured in a web of uncertainty.
The toad ate the spider,
captured in the swamp of reality.
The snake ate the toad,
captured in the grasses of fantasy.
The hawk ate the snake,
captured in the shade of unrest.
The man ate the golden hawk,
captured in the sky of extinction.
The man died with a broken arrow.
The toad had poison within the marrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem