Death
Death is a string on fire
Burning slowly
But surely
In so many ways
That you may think of it
It is absolute and proud in its victory
While you stand alone behind the remains of the fire
Looking at yourself, calmly and
Mournful in your defeat
While you stand
You wait for your savior
The great, supreme creator
Standing in front of him
He decides if you’re worthy
Once you are
The song of requiem shall be played
Strings, strings burning slowly but surely no matter how hard the wind blows
Slowly but Surely
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem