See these death of baby pigeons?
Isn't it sad? A life so young to be over
As quick as death of our relationship
We must be careful of what we revive from the grave
It can turn into two things: life or decaying
One, it is reborn into something new
Two, it is a creation of abomination
Dismembered parts of my soul
Spilled blood of the covenant
Are casualties I once risked
For the sliver of light once night was over
It wasn't fair; you took all of you
To conquest you thought you'd win
She cannot be conquered; a hard lesson that humble you
It broke you in desperation
This is where the beauty of things blossom
When you'd see through my sharp illusion
That I was not once you thought of me
Remember the hurt thee broken mended
[If] its real, its true, its love
Cross oceans and climb mountains
Again and again
No compensation to gain
Only sure that this is rewarding
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem