The way things are moving on,
Not quite justifiable,
Golden moments seem to be gone,
Prosaic justice is ironically available.
Poetic justice is knocking at the door,
Looking for a chance to get its kingdom back,
And roaring more than ever before,
Since it takes pride in the confidence that others lack.
Prosaic is not poetic and can't ever be,
Let's pray for the change that will not change you and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem