Rings my ear Columbines past
Coy cut by evil
Echoed the halls shards of glass
Evil bleeds deceitful
Duo shed light upon blind dark
Into feral from peaceful
Daggers torn out of torn hearts
Not guns, people kill people
Wild a man is if lonely and broken
Scribbles with needles
Ignorance is bliss yet so hopeless
If company is lethal
What fun is life without a little death?
What demons cloud up their breath?
What use of the oddly painted people -
If dipped in a vat of evil?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem