I am not an angel
But I have wings to fly,
I have a story that I can tell
It's about a place in the sky.
When the cycle of existence changes
And life takes on the newest form,
When the old one fades
Will time can be transform
And move the circle of friends
Into a place of past memories,
To closed their compartments,
With secrets remained in their lives.
The conscious reminder of their pyramids,
Archives myth place with each other
History will relate the circle friends
Awaiting their capture.
A conscious community lay hidden
Beneath the leftover fragments,
Died before the new age began
We will take them back only in moments.
Only time will tell of their mysticism,
Defenseless ordinary circle of friends,
Possess with intermittent criticism
Sealed up in silent compartments.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem