Standing in the middle of the heat soaked field,
I can feel everything roaming inside of me.
The strength of my father, the demon.
The elegance of my mother, the witch.
Together they form inside my soul,
Creating a rhythm, playing like an orchestra,
In complete harmony.
The union of the blood lines.
The creation of a child, of the child.
Special, unique, powerful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem