There lies mighty rage
in these innocent hearts,
who try to forget the torment,
though they weren't those harmed.
The pain still fresh in their minds,
the blood offerings not yet dried,
taken advantage of, horror for trust,
in one single quest
''for faith to be crushed''.
They'll stand united,
if that is what must.
For they remember the names
of those who were lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem