I see a woman,
dressed in a dark cloak,
there is something peculiar about her,
but I cannot name the difference.
The mysterious woman lifts up her hands,
I do not know what the gesture was,
for I had not seen it before.
I feel power rising in the air,
though I do not know where it comes from,
it frightens me a little,
whatever she is doing,
it is dangerous.
A flash of green leaves her fingers,
and before I can even stare at the cloud in awe,
it turns to me.
The air felt awkward,
not quite uncomfortable,
but still awkward,
the green cloud collided against my chest.
I felt pain and heat in my chest,
it overwhelmed me,
as if there were weight on my shoulders,
I sank to my knees.
My eyesight gloomed before me,
I looked up at the queer woman who had put this curse on me,
she lifted up her hood and I saw that she was a mage,
and the last thing I saw before I dropped to the ground and left this world,
was that she was smiling down at me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem