In the land of the living.
What seems dead.
Even to the Four Souls Of The Lost.
Burns the fires alive.
Abstract dimensions beyond this world we are killing.
Listens to the cries of some.
Who will be saved if none can behave.
The virus in men sprouts the truth for the liars.
I see, you saw.
I am free, you crawl.
I am bound to the hate.
I am caged to my fate.
Whatever.
Does never.
Arrive any sooner.
Will not.
By the turn for concern.
Depart in one lifetime.
Any later
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem