Fears paralyze the chicken hearts.
They have more preys than sprites.
The victims turn paper white at the bout.
Blue butterflies play in their feeble bellies.
Tall towers are turned dwarf domes by cold monsters.
The icy symptoms are worse than that of leprosy.
The poor victims lose their weight like the anorexics.
It is the Undaunted souls that end in bold history.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem