You break the legs
That walk to the Lake of Fire
For like children,
We know not what we do.
Our flesh has been numbed
To the fires of Hell
So we feel not what is wrong.
It is up to you
To bring us pain
And show us the error of our ways.
Unable to watch us go,
You would rather us
Crawl on our hands to You,
Than walk on our feet to death
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
interesting but i like it. good job.