When they discover that their wars,
Bring nothing but dead ends to them...
They may find a life to salvage.
Perhaps one that has not been ravaged...
By a quest to exert a barbaricness.
To prove themselves destructive beasts.
When they discover that their wars,
Bring nothing but dead ends to them...
An existence in peace,
Will not bring a comforting...
To a corrupt and diseased mentality!
They live only to reveal themselves,
As the initiators of their own sorrows.
Living on borrowed time.
And bad decisions that mask insecurities.
And nowhere on this planet,
Is there a place that erases minds filled with guilt!
Or a battle that comes to defeat,
A loss of consciousness.
Can you...
Spell,
BETRAYED? TREASON?
How deep is this self inflicted sickness?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem