Who's knocking at the door at this time of night?
I thought i heard your voice, it beckoned me to write
About to rest my shoulders on a page I've required
What I've written to myself while hopelessly tired
I've yet to find the words to express how i feel
A slave to the world of misery which i have made real
The only companion i believe, makes me who i am
A dreamer who's in love with the art she understands
Rejecting the thoughts upon which we've built
The pillars of rage which we've fulfilled
Searching for a cure, but not a needle's bite
This world needs more than what we've gambled by
The lives of which we gave away
The lives that we chose to forsake
Invisible they are and so are we
But in whatever form, we may emerge
A definite response is what i heard
To accept a bit of faith would be absurd
When your so-called god is invisible
Believing in him would make you a fool
Well, maybe he's always been around
Waiting for our souls to come out
Listening to our prayers of peace
Why can't we be the missionaries?
Why can't be the ones to save the day?
Instead of wasting our time with debates
I know it seems difficult but you know
Those are the things worth fighting for
The return to love and innocence
The return to Beauty and providence
You can just throw yourself in his arms
Because in whatever form, he may emerge
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem