Magical, yet moving,
Tropical, yet soothing.
Bound in rope,
The Beginning.
Midway through, still loving,
Joys of life,
Nevermore exclaimed,
By its bretheren.
Why did i choose this,
Controlling emotion, through the mist.
Light intense, village burning.
An End to a new Beginning.
Rebirth, Reformed.
A new start, The Narcons, slain.
From the rubble we spawn,
We aren't here to mourn.
Making the barrier,
Moving it up.
Kazayovs at work,
Assemble the cup.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem