Lost poems are like children
Missing from parents
Birth from thought but then
Deleted by evil agents.
Perhaps the trolling people here
Who think they enjoy destroying
Our work, to no longer appear -
Will find their pranks... backfiring.
Evil has a way of self-destruction
Like rust it eats up the person inside
And a lack of peace gains intrusion
Into the heart, no matter what they hide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem