Sweltering lands, co’ered with human flesh,
Decaying beneath a rising red sun;
Ravaging all, with wounds that bleed afresh;
Cankering bloody roses, just undone.
Bleeding skulls stare, with a murderous glare;
Piercing all, but sightless souls; stained with sin;
Burying dreams of restless souls, who bare
Lasting zest; weeping o’er blood-stained kin.
Screeching screams scatter; with thoughts of children,
Drowning; within blood-stained human squander.
Tolling knells, fore’er echo for fallen,
Paying respect to bruised souls who wander;
Withering away, till they show despair;
Wondering, doth a cankered rose repair?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The last line says everything beautifully. CP