Do you have a cause?
Do you have a conviction?
Do you have a purpose?
Do you have a reason?
Do you understand the pangs
That rattle through the forest
Of ghosts?
Do you understand what razors on the mind of an
Angry men
A sea of grieving dark man without knowing why the
Hunger feasting on their sapling
Why the revolt is not paying?
Why the gorilla warfare is not paying?
Why the war, the struggle is not paying
Those young man and woman sacrificed their souls on the alter of rust,
On the alter of corrosion
The struggle is not paying for its purpose,
The conviction of the struggle is not convincing
The reason of the struggle is not conceiving.
The black dust, the messy of death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem