Born into a life,
sent to pay another's sin.
Rewarded by our kindness,
with sorrow and dismay.
Wasting away,
living only to lie.
Giving so much,
only to die.
WIth sins attoned,
at the price of woe.
We learn to quickly,
that you reap what you sow.
As we lay and die,
in a bed of ashes.
Our past regrets weigh us down,
and our soul of stone crashes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem