I was deathly in my manhood, when suddenly a soul
Danced in my head, fierce as a lion, wicked as a sorcerer,
Full of venom seething from the pangs of evil.
I was a very deathly man when my flesh no longer stared,
It shrivelled and I died with negative energy, no longer
Afraid of the silence surrounding me.
I am really dead, faults of mine collected every day,
The God will judge at the end of time, at the end of friendship.
He will subjugate me, the fires will swing to the eyes
And ears, like a chasm of a blasted furnace.
It would dance in the soul, fuelling the eternal fires,
Nature will discuss my betrayal, men will hear my tears,
So luck is not on my side, luck is obsolete.
For I was a deathly man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem