What wild and hellish beast devours and stings,
consumes the time we spend upon this Earth,
and speeds us to our final song to sing
while robbing life of all its joy and mirth?
We rage with verve against the coming doom
but fail to win in any battle fought.
Yet, prone we are to think that hope will bloom
though truth be known- death is our only lot.
One sword, one light against the raging dark
we have as proof to keep the wolf at bay.
Alas, our life was worthy of the spark
God set to blaze within the miry clay.
Your love for me will be my only thought
as death in time my lonely soul is sought.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem