sad was the son of the slain
by the modern day cain
a young lad thrown in the rain
with a heart full of pain
as death stealthily took away his
bossom lover a worthy brother-father
now gone were the days he was kept
warm in a loving and cuddling arms
beautiful and pitiful
left alone in a lonely home
with nothing but pillows to hug
days of condolence are now gone
with none still close
beautiful and pitiful
mourning is his best friend
still running but still needs strenght
gone were the days happy and blissful
until he came to the end of the road
beautiful and pitiful
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem