Forever I must face my fears,
and fight for every breath,
without the comfort of the years,
for life must end in death.
What lies beyond the ashen grave,
no one can claim to know.
There is no army of the brave
to halt the winter snow.
The strongest fall upon their knees
as winds and shadows speak,
as if the gods they might appease,
before the heart grows weak.
Still I defy the bitter cold,
and fight the wind and ice,
pretending that my fragile hold,
avoids the winter's price.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice. There is no army of the brave, to halt the winter snow. Love that! .