weaving from knifes in a village of gurus
carved out innocence in the deserts
starry eyed star crossed lovers
fiendish frauds sail a pirate boat
filled with loathing their tide surrounds us
both are sinking they and the innocent
drown in a faithless wave that corrupts
transition is a veneer blistered by the sun
the scent of confusion confuses everyone
only the week are strong
only the humble are godly
only the meek shall inherit who we really are
dodging bullets from a getaway car
weaving from knifes without a scar
only the weak are strong
only the humble are godly
lets all pray we know and share who they are...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem