With the necessity of breathe
We become the epitome of suffering
We look through our damaged pupils
To see this wasteland where we sleep
Clouded by a curtain of disbelief
But once the stage is set, the show begins
My bare feet trampling over dried bodies
The filth, poverty, menace, and fellow souls
Everything that is capable in this world
In a field of murdered ideas
I can’t live like this
With no purpose and doomed to be like the rest
I see the worst in them all
And I suffer for it
The curtain is always open for me
But I’m tired of this play
Prove to me and test your worth
To give me life, you need to give me…
Something to die for
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem