To endure a night of resent,
to secure thy own content.
To master a world of challenges,
one must master thy own imbalances
Our home we know as is curled
By the man to sold the world
To die knowing we are anew
As to dust we shall return to
For the final truth be told
As is especially cold
Life as is not fulfilled
At no time to be rebuilt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem