As thine wake up to the winter misty morning,
With no sunlight,
Bright colorful flowers or the chirping birds singing their song,
The Feeling of death lurks within thy.
Close to thee, Thy see nothing,
Just fog and the gloomy atmosphere sing,
A close friend of old age comes and pays a visit to your fable feelings,
Although I tell thee, There is no need to be afraid.
Death makes angel's of us all,
And leads us a path of a new crawl,
Indifferent forms, Yes I tell thee,
But that's how nature works and that's how it wants to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.