There are few who know the urgency...
the pulling, the tearing
the anxious, the fearing
the sweating, the yearning
the twisting, the turning
the soul bitterly burning,
the moaning, the crying
the desperately dying
the hand of peace nowhere near
As I cry, cry each and every tear,
Day after Day, Year after Year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'the hand of peace nowhere near' - GREAT LINE