The Holy Text relates those eternal features of existence, defining light, darkness and a host, detailing enormous mixtures: stating this fact, these complete fixtures that will always be there.
A finished realm, its breakdown with its formation of the state of this heaven, informing its viewpoint of another existing haven: speaking the host upon this craven to divide themselves.
Life living among beings has its due downfall, done by dwelling among them attempting to belong with this rife: known incidences of strife at one's door.
A clear pathway which yields its destruction, furnishings of pain bent in your corruption: an eruption of badly said things sent forth to terminate any cheer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem