From all the motives she had in mind, rested a wish of making it to the other side.
Few words could have mired her not to go by, the chill mystery she always wanted to find
This is proof of the letters in her youth she wrote, for an oath to the history she coined and pain she coded.
For all the innocents she murdered on the rivers she crossed, in her full ambitions resting patiently in her mind.
The rivers she crossed,
Are all the shades of the dead which in her youth were never found!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem