Black wolf arising,
From the cemetary gates,
Leave me alone,
My life still holds hate.
By the name of corey,
and the mind of a child,
He will soon hold regrets,
As I revert to anger from mild.
So I hold my hate closed,
From the thought of your future,
Because the past held no thought,
Like you're head I am sure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem