No one stunned,
Runs from it.
And no one runs,
When stunned.
Conflicts.
Created everyday.
Conflicts.
Where is the benefit.
And who are the doers of this misdeed.
People in despair.
Feeling no one cares.
Who are the doers of this misdeed.
People seem to lose,
What they use to value.
Who are the doers of this misdeed.
Confusion is the news.
Abusing who views.
Where is the benefit.
And who profits from the madness.
To leave a sadness had.
Where is the benefit.
Who profits from the craze.
These days,
Of conflicts.
No one stunned,
From it can run.
Where is the benefit.
When no ending of it to come.
When no ending of it is done.
Where is the benefit.
When no ending of it is done.
Or seen to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem