My ambition that becomes my sword
I dwell in mysteries
That cast shadows on face of pain
Let me succeed beyond pains
On swollen grounds
Looking with my hawk eyes
Preserving spears in saddlebags.
To begin
A journey of warrior
Emerged from untold tales
Like redemption of
crewed sailing to endless
I barely stand for that
What was never a sacred belief
Resurrection of lost civilisation
From crippled bones of natives
With ghost faces
Barely standing upright
Dressed like spooky pirates
For them most of doors of hell
Stand open
Let, give them a way
Dust rises far away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem