The sky cries tears for the Earth to embrace
To hold her scepter high to receive
Belief in the mask behind the face
You give but you deceive
Pity, the daughter of Remorse
Villain to reality, but a friend of mine
The strength of a horse,
But the grace of the darkest wine
I suppress such thoughts of dreams
I live in the reality I conceive
I figure it’s as it seems
As devils do believe
Sing this aspersion slowly
Disrupt my faint chord
Disunity will bleed from my soul,
As penitence will writhe before me
Corruption holds not the hand
Of withered heights and cold nights
It lays before thee a pure land
A doomed culture filled with frights
That children often do speak
And seldom does it spare the weak
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is very unique and nicely written. Keep up the hgood work! ~Ary