Long have I fought
And much have I seen
The truth of it all
The lies at the scene
The fall of the thought
The eyes of deceit
The scent of the soul
Like that of rotten meat
The screaming out for hope
For help and aid indeed
As if one deeply mopes
The Knife of Truth concealed
The blood in hope of Joy
Adventure overseas
A venture grave for Troy
Like birth for Death, my dear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem