The lord has saved the grumblings
from delapitated soul of these heads
a debris from fallen order
the gong are all over the places
marketters must rally round their destinies
for choiceses which decissions counts
upon the amazement of doubt
for race which is the fear of adversity
here its keeps afloat
men who were faulted for thought;
they had made a mistake
have'nt we arrived today?
Pages that breaks the dawn
when would the promised-pleasure-play?
A new dawn dressed with the past
with bleeding victors and living carcass.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem