nothing is heard above a cruel wind
it drifts in from the north
its whisper turns to a howl
it is the shadow of a prowling wolf
a pagan chant mingles with terror
despair intoxicates with fear
I vanquish this pale army of ghosts
with salvation's prayer
the enemy is at my gate
my knife is ready for the final fight
my excersise in language: Α cruel wind drifts in from the north its whisper turns to a howl its shaddow like that of a prowling wolf. I wonder whether it is already by others heard or it is only me who imagines pagan chant to mingle with terror, despair to be intoxicated with fear. I see the enemy standing in front of my gate, can I vanquishe this pale army gosts by a salvation's prayer or have I to get my knife ready for the final fall!
Nice rendition. I cover both bases. I try to cover both bases, I pray but also I am ready to fight.
A profound write. War, death n change....these are certainly most feared realities of life. How wonderfully you portray them. The reader feels a chill down his spine. Man cannot escape the horror of them, he must face them. Great inking. A10
I should have added illness to the topic list. One more fearful enemy. Regardless of the foe, faith and will are the primary defense. Thanks as always Nosheen.
Simple yet profound. I have read it with great pleasure and with a sense of inner satisfaction. It goes into the list of my favorite poems. The determination to rid the world of its painful afflictions, is remarkable. Thank you, Barry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deep n a beautiful write...death is the final flight! Thank u for sharing this sir
Thanks. I will fight with death or anything else that wants to harm me. Glad you liked the poem.