We are the night,
Endless, dark and beautiful
Tiny shards of light,
Sprinkled, showered across the sky,
Enough to give them hope,
Light enough to see, but still weighs heavy on your hearts
Never enough to overtake us
We are the plague,
Growing, multiplying like mice, destroying all traces
Of that thing called yesterday
You were a fool to release us
We will destroy
Attack, attack,
And then be surprised when you decide to fight back
We are man,
Comfort is our chief desire
Yet our master is the king of torment
As we get brighter the sky grows darker,
Thick with the smoke of our countless sins
Our mother earth cries for us,
Wondering what she has done wrong
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem