THE FIGHT OF FAITH
Hell is but a stone throw
But heaven still awaits
I limp like a wounded antelope
Seeking the Paradise gate
Through days of laughter
And through days of pain
Many a thorn I encountered
Many a joy was slain
Anxiety is my dream when I lie
For many a truth unattained
Must man truly die
For life to be regained
I fall like an axed tree
Still I stand again
The reward ahead of me
Is but ten thousand gain
Temptation is but an enemy
Battling with my faithless spirit
Offering a plate of meal
To apprehend me a culprit
But I stand by the word
Quoting every line
Man must live be the word
Not by bread and wine
Patience is but a sword
That unleashes the errs of time
Blessed are the trees of God
Bringing forth fruits in due time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem