Rulers rest in their dominions,
a million pieces of a fragmented glass
each performing an isolated gloss.
Amazed. Amused. Allured. Abandoned.
Apathetic.
In their polished refractions.
In their delicate deceptions.
In their painstaking calculations.
In their incessant subjugations.
Blind to the world's enduring conlicts
they mourn their petty loss.
Deaf to the call of awakening minds
they cower with their dross.
Rejection.
Resignation. Redemption. Ressurection.
Rulers rest in their dominions,
a glass designed for their void
shattering truth and beings.
And My dream is to change it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem