Death, death is all around,
all the bodies beneath the ground
I look and I see what I should not see
before the ground swallows them finally.
I see their eyes shining with hope
and how their lids were shut.
The hope all gone, the light all gone
and humanity caught in a rut,
the rut of living one day at a time
and fearing the end of breath.
Some are old, some too young,
all of them facing death.
What scourge of a mind designed this?
Will it always be this way?
Or will there come a day
when mankind will upset this rut
and design a different play?
Life, life should be all around,
no more bodies under the ground,
no more saddened eyes to see,
no more of this for humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
no more for humanity, good one.