So many dead spirits
Living on the palm of my hand
So many living corpses
Hurting eyes in widespread lands
I wish I had a trumpet
To blow away curtains and shades
I wish I could place it
In green grass tender blades
Cutting the edges of our sorrow
To live in everafter tomorrow
I wish I were much stronger
I could always deliver the fruit of joy
I’m a wanna be heaven monger
And what I have is a child’s toy
A living spirit at the ruins of my walls
Opening the doors of endless halls
The entrance the exit a maze to amaze
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem