A royal son
Compassion for poor and lost
Dispel brightest robes
Walk streets of dust
In prison town
Grew up foster child
Work with hands
Turn plain to Flight
Fight religion
Ignore the state
Take the blame
Wear the cross till it bleeds
Forgive the double cross
Laugh stone away
Invite the world
To bliss
Let those you came to help mock you for thousands of years without a word from anyone but...sheep! ! !
Bring the sword
Fulfill promises
receive praise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem