There is no cure for what ails U.S. our deaths,
and you cannot prevent pure life and it's forming.
Though conservitive thinking some would,
others practice what ever is cruel, it reflects what is you.
Day is light that is never night, weeks, years to wait,
counting the months, here where it's dark waiting to go.
Killing human beings and so every King thought.
Where is the life, death has to you brought?
Buisness interests, outsell and destroy all living creatures.
Human beings seem to dream of new ways to kill you.
Moving backwards, it is bending this endless flow of time.
I to have grown senile and choose not to follow.
No one will stop and come to your aid.
One is to great to now openly follow,
where spouses and children on this road wait to greet you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem