They've selected to bait their own opponents,
In a tired game of 'We'll Watch Them Fight'...
Then defeat them both.
To quicken the expiration their own existence.
Times have changed.
But the minds of the many have not.
And at their own expense,
There is no fruits of labor for them to enjoy.
Now they wish for more time,
To defend from their own madness.
But who now can be trusted from a pool of fools,
To be depicted successfully as the enemy?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem