Tussle between you and me,
fuel for rage,
far from your sight,
On the edge of height,
still you won't hear me,
Too many down here.
Rough roads, busted lives,
and tough pain: Enforced on us,
Shattered voices, who die everyday,
not heard, and not seen;
Defiance in veins,
and bustle in our eyes,
Roam and roar,
Through these streets.
Killer and outlaw,
walking down the same lane,
We know ground, beyond your rationality,
and you're scared of our being.
Pain bleeds, endure to overthrow,
Not afraid of enemies,
raised to avenge,
threat to fakes and thieves:
We're the ones from paradise,
carrying hellfire in hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem