Beware ye
The violent tempests of the heart
That rage through the flesh
Among men,
To thunder and hail
Upon the fields
And, render
Each harvest thin.
Then shall
The flood waters rise
Upon Virtue’s plains
To choke the humble and meek,
Drowning the memory
Of my name
Through tyranny and oppression
Unto the weak.
8-03-2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem