Tired steps trod this lands,
some collapsed here,
others went on.
But these feet still trudge on
The heat is damnably naked,
sleep would be a nice idea,
But the ground is bare and thorny
so they trudge on
Burdens weighs heavily on them,
visions get blurry,
songs of success grow faint,
the lights dim out
And then along you come
and snatch away their tattered faith,
you rob them of their very walking stick,
you break their support,
their broken dreams crash on them,
hopelessness chains them down,
cacooing them into nailed boxes
burying their strength
burying their spirit
burying them alive
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem