My feet have taken me to the stygian realm
where only grey shadows grow,
saw Pluto's throne covered in dark skin
of ancient warriors, poets, and priests.
oh..how many times
havent't I thought and wondered why
what was the reason I had to fight..
for, in the night, the sparkle
of my heart has been switched off!
and breath of life became an offering
whilst eyes struggled to break through
a blindfold thicker than the haze;
but a thread guided me across the maze.
I sensed a scent, heard steps behind
a whisper delayed this grief of mine
and a soft quill was given in my hands:
'please, write some more,
and I will let go
of the lament within your beguilling soul
here's a chalice...have a sip
before you know, you'll rise up from sleep! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You seem to possess a good knowledge of the celestial and human behavior A good write