Dreaded doom begins to bloom,
And we all come to bring it,
A song of death blows from our breath,
As we begin to sing it.
Silence is broke, as the angel spoke,
Through wings too worn to fly,
Nothing is found, not sight nor sound,
Just the will to say goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh my this is good. You meant 'dreaded' on line 1, right?