A wild alienated piece of land,
Neither grand, nor bland.
Even though roses and myrtles grow on this heath,
Clung in the air, is the fragrance of death.
With fluttering bats and hooting owls, this new place,
Brings direful apprehension felt for Frankenstein's face.
In the morn, lay in their cribs, peaceful resting souls,
When stars light, a haven of haunting ghouls.
Rich and poor, young and old, sleep alike,
With utmost reverence, no altered psyche.
For they have tasted downfall and demise,
And so they don't believe in life's cold lies.
They welcomed me warmhearted,
'Never fear death, fear God', they sighed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the idea. Death can not be avoided. You get good themes for your message through poems. Keep it up. They welcomed me warmhearted, 'Never fear death, fear God', they sighed................................... Awesome