Flavio comes on thorny paths
Thro the storm he saunters here
With robes his- soaked in blood
Flavio comes home one last time
His young wife- she makes their bed
And his kids all wait him come
Their gone love is coming home
They know not he comes to die
Flavio too- others heart
Like mother his who long loiters
She stood by- a yearning ghost
Waiting take- Flavio hence
He by morn reaches home
And eager kids run his hide
With kept strength lifted them
And on passed he- in wife’s arm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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