We feel like prisoners in hell, on fire
Our souls chained tight by barbed wire
Trapped by our habits, wishes, wet dreams
Annoyed, dusturbed by our pet peeves
Dreaming of a getaway, though it's a silly idea
Dawns and sunsets don't matter in here
we are the victims of appaling mutation
How can we survive this fast transformation?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem