A mood has played my mind for the last year. It struggles, the mind has struggled, due to concerns over mood. I obsessed the mind and gifted my soul. It is intelligent soul, and intellectual might, that consists of thoughts and learning. Wisdom is so so superior, and that is a secret. My worship is all I worship for the betterment of my long life, and my menacing enemy shall retract and die. Dying is an act of knowing when to live, and in which heaven you shall be placed. Today is the ready day, the way to meet your maker.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem