I might've given up that day
Everyone could make me a face
My last speck of dignity would be dusted away
I rather pulled up my sleeves
The fight is yet to sweep over
Wounds are again to leak
I began to roar again
After a few moments, and then after sometime
Still silence bravely reign
I couldn't find my foe
The roads're misty and dark
A few stray dogs often bark and go
I was lost before I escape
The cold enveloped me hard
And the snow drips inside my flake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very nice imagery and the style is awesome.