Over 46 million abortions per year and,
This sin has increased among the human;
All in a day's work and of the human crisis!
Noah begot three sons and,
We all do fall with our sins;
But the world crisis cannot be numbered.
Of aborted foetus and our history,
And behind close doors with our footprints;
But beware of the false prophets.
Thievery and fonication are part of us and,
Our sins are repeated over and over again!
With aborted body parts for sale,
But where are the surgical tongs?
Fear, anger and sadness;
We have violated the moral code;
And the world crisis does lie with us today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem