I want it to be opposite,
How good things don't last.
Your packing your luggage,
Sad to know,
That you wanted it to be fast.
My head was better than hell,
But it never made an outcast.
This soul is a molten fire,
Because it had a worse past.
People are crucial transformers,
And all the magic spells do I cast.
If truth was a mystery or treasure,
I got my own schemes to make a blast.
My heart is a divine weapon.
It's wars are great and vast!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem