The world might not have been like these,
Where green love turns into yellow bitch,
And tomorrow's faith is sold in Manipulation's shop,
The tie-of brotherhood assumes Hangman's rope.
Might the world be a vacant desert,
Rather a despotic Sense and Butcher's heart.
Why in the cry of democracy Big-Brother whispers,
The simpletons turn winery-toads in fear.
Imperialism masquerades in terrorists' threat,
The highest killers are recognised as the Great.
The Beauty trades sex and politician deals,
The corporate settles Government as it wills.
Frustration creates God, but no help comes,
If one wishes Peace, he must have an escape-jump.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful one..👏💟