No comfort for me in
The valley of Scorn
So little empathy for
Me in the grave
Treaded upon by the
Mighty men
From the Ruling Nth
Brigade
Savage eyes they burn me
Melting me stoic as stone
And in the Flash Of Thunder Dance
My body becomes charred bone
Soon it will be: ashes to ashes
Underneath a Mourning Veil
Dust-to-Dust will haunt both of us
But in the end-goodness shall prevail
The funeral pyre-it rattles me
And insenses my psyche's whole
Broken in my heart of hearts
Death-it takes its toll
In life-i always the victim
The calvary could see through me
A dauntless and tenacious lot
They were
Driven as the deep blue sea
But Goodness and Mercy will come
Upon the Heaven's Opening Gate
And forever i-to be bathed in light
Of God's pre-ordained loving fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent, excellent poem Theodora, I love it.---Melvina---