The Cross has burnt down
before oceans that drank Atlantis,
so people would stop looking for,
Lilin.
You come bearing gifts
(one decaying throne of hell)
as lances break(free?):
Glory's dream
if the much awaited prize.
Mary made a deal, so the
temples start rotting flesh;
graciously accepting diseases oncoming.
(Michael is hiding something)
The portal is blocked
with carcasses doused,
as angels(?)proclaim
wars on yellow skin.
Angels are dead.
(duh magic pills)
Hell needs allies
to fulfill devil's need.
(A new leash)
For no nation wants to claim
the dragon's bones.
(they all secretly want it)
"The children are hungry! ",
Michael screams from the cage,
urine spraying, as one breath
finally begins
to devour another.
Thus, Mary made a deal
with all princes of hell,
for she refuses to lose
to her son's toys.
The Cross burnt down
before oceans swallowed Atlantis,
So people
(like you)
Would stop looking
Lilin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem