My trophy of iron cast
Always coated with rust
Now clothed with dust
No one looks at it with lust
My holding on to it is my must
A game of thorns and trust
This infinite race can last
My enigma for now at its best
My trophy of iron cast
Squash my fingers as I try to rest
At the mercy of the mile its at its heaviest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem