Through the truce are facts that must remain
Oblivion in the very depth of the scrolls
when they learn to fly across the centuries
Stir up the darkest side as tales comes and go
the deep calling unto the deep in this marbles
Men failed, women failed alike to pay the truce
The journey was little but they never saw it end
The circles never finds its path home
Even when the lonely paths accost this truce
Never too soon to quit opening this meg of peg
Quit now, never look back for yesterday was written
From the very beginning of time it elapses
It was meant to die a bitter-sweet death of a saint
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem