He moved through the night
silent as hell but cold as the Alps
He was no wizard, no shiney knight
He was a lonely man on his own mission
His feet hurt lik hell
With every step he took
The look on his face
You wouldn't even tell
He has to do it
He has no other choice
So it will be all over
Then he can sit
Another dark figure came up from behind
Hit the first once, to make the old man blind
But the yonuger didn't know what he had seen
The first man diapeaired as f he'd never been
The first man was a pro, so strong and fine
For he still lives in the shadows and meories of
Of all people, for his name is Death
The master of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what a loser