Traveling across The Styx,
Is the only thing I find hard to fix
Even when a distant stranger dies
My mind grieves, my eyes cry
I'll muse over the nature of the end
Right from the starting line
My mind was ignorant, my heart blind
That, for me, there's never an end
'I'll endlessly open the doors of time.'
Now the realism has dawned
My peers everyday are getting drawn
Today, it's the charming Tom
With cascading faces
We gathered around his tomb
Refusing to believe he was really gone
We paced our path back home,
Our minds still heavy and torn
A word tickled another word
Another peer's plight is told
Cot-shackled by a lethal flaw
I prayed it didn't get too far
Still yet we lost the star
We shuffled to the eeriest end of town
I realized the truth wasn't a ghost
As the priest chanted dust to dust
Time has in my heart written a book
I must come to terms with the truth:
To be born, to live and to die
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem