the fire rises
the pain grows
the clouds shadow us
as he kills me slow
he comes and goes
just as he please
made to be a man
just to fall on my knees
i am alive
but my heart does not beat
seems i always find the chair
without the seat
feels as if
i am a sacrifice
you kill my flesh
my soul is sent to christ
little boy forced
to grow up a early
straight out the whom
no chance to get dirty
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem