I lived a long time ago,
in a world i didn't know.
It was a world of ice, rain, and snow,
there were no animals,
and plants wouldn't grow.
The ice was thick.
The snow was deep,
and into it my blood would seep.
As my heart begins to slow,
I hear the guns in the distance.
As the river continues to flow,
I weaken my resistance.
I tried hard to say no,
but my voice was shattered and weak.
I didn't want to let go,
help was just out of reach.
And as my body started to fray,
I opened my eyes for one last peek,
I saw the front line; the people all in gray,
their hair short and sleek.
And I saw hurt in there eyes,
witch were glazed and weak.
And as my body fades with time,
I see the people praying to be free,
and for there friends on the front line,
dying to defend their country.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In times of peace sons bury their father, in times of war, fathers bury their sons King Croesus That was true 2500 years ago and its true nowm accept we bury children, good work.