thorn spark pain lashes until it ends
oh! hear my wound, split blood
splash like water fall on the wall
and boil seems in grave,
before the very eyes
my heart grab, beneath the
sorrows in vain
hurts silent the wonderful mood,
where everybody wants to
move, yet! so dark that i
can't touch, the wary heart that
sad it depart
leave me not to your path, sudden
flip, flirts my pub, oh! bring
and guide me, make my way
to the heaven i pray
bladed sword of thorn, rescue
my dignity, fight to the last
as you lead me free, spoiled blood
like cloth in the thread
and point it's direction, set
your vanity
oh, my sweet Roses, Roses whisper
that you are here with me.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful play of emotive words...great poetic monologue! ! !