It is the whispering ghostly shrill,
That the path ahead is of a dead end
The ambience in your soul that makes you feel,
Like all of your exertions will come to a halted end,
That your head, you won't be able to feel,
Once it, towards your endeavours, bends
Trepidation is a doubtful soul; ,
It is a breath so foul;
It poisons the courage in your soul:
It is the feeling that kills a savior,
And makes him a failed hero
And him that masters it to his heart,
Him; is that whom we call a sacred hero
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Trepidation is a doubtful soul; , It is a breath so foul; It poisons the courage in your soul: It is the feeling that kills a savior, And makes him a failed hero- - - - - - - - -good piece of writing! ! ! !