He was muscular
tall and strong
Had been exercising
his body for long
To keep himself
fighting fit
Not to stagger
on being hit
Had made a name
for taking care
Of what to eat
what to spare
His daily grind
he believed
Was for hundred years
how well deceived
He mistook his life
to be his life
Innocent of
constant strife
With dirty tricks
of human fate
When truth dawned
it was late
Years of effort
may bring health
A split second
spells death
A single bullet
stops breath
Life is gone
here is death
Here is death
There is death
Everywhere
There is death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem