I've spoken with a loud voice
mountains trembled without a choice.
Mountains powerful and strong all fallen and gone,
but the throne.
Grue-some and fierce
inquisitive true masterpeice.
A grist on a quest, quenching a pressing thirst.
neither brute nor crafted crude.
these just foisted focus
like a curse in purse,
lurking to uleash a purpose.
I'm a voice in the hands of youth-filled with gruff,
remorseless ambition boils-off the cuff.
I stand there between,
I stand to be corrected,
I stand to win.
my iron fist for injustice,
there at the kill inpractice.
enlisted for the listless,
the voice that darkens the minds of the fearless.
my very breath of squeeze,
in lightning speed never to seize.
strongly imposed impetious trigger,
at some point a marvellous figure.
Blazed in the bitting rains,
deepen furrows still carry the pains.
there at the teeth of a charge,
in a stance unfolding a grudge.
well and impute,
a culmination in complete.
A point made to kill, not for peace
but a piece, kept concealed for dire emphesis.
from the past, till I stand fast.
My infinite roar will reign,
sharply piercing aim.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem