I don’t know what to do anymore
The world was dieing all along
That’s what makes you a person
Even after all that you done
How your raised changes you too
That’s what makes you person
Even when the most unjust is true
Heaven is not a belief for you
Can what contained in this little heart,
Hold together a new world?
Justice may die,
Yet is not what we wished?
To be free from the vile constraints,
that keep the weakest safe.
Trust blindly is what people give
They who see above are weighted down
Throw away your safety and your fears
But hold onto the ideals that your new self represents
Hand in hand,
For freedom rules us all
Tragedy once dead is among us
Now we can see,
It’s grasp on the oldest crowd.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem