We assume our knowledge is superfluous yet we are still lead astry are we nt ambassadors of life? we cover ourselves with garments because of the first people as we assembled in a mob apocrypha took over my mind by many it's not considered genuine figurehead they call Him we ought to be joyous yet it's still outage as fretting continues we wait for the awful horror of His coming
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem