In the endless burning wastes, where only silence speaks
Up above the snow line, where lost souls roam the peaks
Entombed in vaulted caverns, where a mountain, eternal, weeps
There, lost in desolation, my grieving soul its vigil keeps
In the heart of roiling thunderheads, where angels dare not fly
Where raucous flocks of ravens swoop, their cowering prey to scry
Beneath the crimson shadows of this torn and bleeding sky
Souls of the lost and broken come, drawn by my tortured spirit's cry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem