The dead is mourning for the dead
Who will mourn for me?
When I am no more.
Who shall wail for me?
When I am still.
Who shall speak for me?
When I am dumb.
Who shall tell my story?
When I am gone.
To the land of no return
Where all are equal
The land of no honour
Nor title
The land where we are to
spend our better days
When it comes
What I know will despise me
For another
What I have shall run from me
For another
Those I have will mourn for me
For we are mere travelers
Covered with debt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. Rich in imagery and style. Wonderfully conceived. Everybody wants to know what will happen when he dies. Liked it. I rated it 10/10. Please read and rate my poem 'A bitter truth' on page 1.