There's poison in the air.
I cannot see this deadly thing,
this deadly creature that
has me trapped within its clutches.
I try to run,
but I trip and fall.
I try to flee,
but you have a firm grip on me.
They told us it was fine;
that we could live on,
going about our business,
still they can't explain
why we are all dying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
mysteriously u crafted telling 'poison in airs', and 'cant explain what keeps us killing', asking why pain and suffering exists and why its ok we live with it? !