The smelted scent of pride flows from this man,
Like volcanic columns its rises, and merges into a blood ridden sky.
This man lies, but dreams of green fields and rivers
But wakes to his two faces and his spine shatters with shivers
Locked somewhere in his mind, is a lost paradise,
His heart has hardened, by the fright of memories passing
Haunted by the lack of imagery, he breeds on desire
And so inside him an animal grows with a barrage of fire
There’s been an unceasing wind, that’s blown throughout his life
With dust and debris which has blinded his sight,
A tragedy of moments, create negative negation and
With promises broken his emotions and motives are past dedication
He speaks to the river of life, in the cold of the night,
The river rolled on, He received no reply,
A silent invitation speaking much louder than words
His strength now draining, he feels it’s what he deserve
Swirling currents and a swift breeze, a fixed stare witness
Of what is to be, in life we walk but we are not free
Until timely death arrives and sweeps with its cloak,
Taking the soul, and on his last breath he chokes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem