When my dire diligence gives way to mirth,
Hard-wired intransigence displays my dearth.
For with fortune I gamble my life,
To rid parasites with which I'm rife.
This random nonsense.
This poetic licence.
Stop before I would start.
Judge without taking part.
Nonexistent nevertheless solid,
The bars given substance by space and stars,
Divide between dark and home haven,
No more to see family 'til heaven.
Why not cut and run?
Why not jump the gun?
No, eat a meal for tea,
Surrender our fealty.
Walls fashioned with reasonless motives dense.
Close and trap us in prison of violence.
Offers salvation in oppressions
Proffered with ice cold fiery talons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem