On the lane an angel stands
The gown, the halo and the harp in hand
This angel however is apart from her kin
She wanders the nether places that lie within
I lingered in her limbo netherworld
Then she took my hand and the story was retold
Unknown to man is the bed of cats
Feel the anger of this unkown trap
Into hell now feel the fury
Of the holders firey story
Over the cats they stand
Tridents firmly in hand
The cats cry out in the bleak abyss
Needing nothing they spit and hiss
Keeping watch over those who's fate is undecided
This place of waiting can be quite one sided
At first she had to grow
Then she began to leave the shadow
And I saw her in all her glory
Within her leaves lay an untold story
I was selected and it was unique
To be standing there on her 10 minute peak
Undescribable to be precise untill she opened up my eyes
And showed me the places to which we are blind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem