The world is filled with Priests and Paladins, False Prophets and Fools
Each beating their chest and proclaiming, that they know best
How we should live, what we should think, or what we should do
Yet within their gilded chests, in each, the same fault rests
Victims of the dogma that since birth, they have been fed
Each, trapped within the rules, that someone else made
Passed down through the ages and eagerly swallowed whole
And blinded by rules written down, on some dusty old scroll
Yet nearly each one, though they believe with all their might
Tries to make us believe as they do, or if not, be prepared to fight
By using stories past and worlds gone by, to prove they are right
And by believing what they believe, only then, will we see the light
But to me it's truly sad, that most are alive, but not truly living
And though some come close, only a rare few actually dare
To boldly live without judgment, to give without expecting
To help one another and to love without fear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem