As you shed on tear,
for which is no more,
you can only hope,
that they're in a world better than ours,
our world is dying,
our world is lying.
our world is falling,
so far below,
so closely entwined with death that there is no hope.
as we look to the sky,
we are inclined to remember,
remember the pain we gave this world.
we are binded to this fate like trees in the ground,
but yet there is still hope,
hope in that we may change,
change to see a better world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Most people are too busy to worry - sad but true.