once we were,
breathing,
smiling,
and living,
on the same,
and things became,
strange on some tornado,
we could not find,
our loves, our homes,
in wreaked jet sam,
and to seek the straws,
of dry jungle grasses,
to refurbish our nest,
and loneliest cries.
shadowed long,
when the days were over.
with blood sheds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem asking us to think, are we running on the same wild track once again?