My soul sounds like an empty tank
Beaten by an iron rod
My heart cries to the evil in array in our land
The soul of the dead burnt by fires of bombshell
Screams, laments and cries aloud
The silent cries of the dead
Will one day in our country drive sleep away from the land
The conscience that lies silenced
Will one day be loud to the ears of the deaf
The roaming spirits of the dead
Will one day fill the habitation of our leaders
As they turn a blind eye to the genocide
Plying its trade in the northern states
"I will come for retribution one day" says their spilled blood
On those that did nothing when they could have
Retribution says here I come with my own gift
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem