Fractured are the days before us now
Tomorrow is shrouded in mystery
Obey, and before your owners bow
Follow the leader you little sheep
Constantly caught in the cracks of life
Whether to burn myself or all the world
Like sleeping on a bed of knives
Where does this desolate path go
Further I go into the great unknown
With only the stars hanging over my head
As the rose slowly turns into stone
Iron curtains draw in the reaper's dread
Deeper I go into the great unknown
No one there to leave a blueprint
The more I became detached, I've grown
They cannot claim I never tried
Feeling more lost within the space
Only my echo I ever hear
When the public enemy has my face
To be criminal and obsolete
Time has aged like a gangrenous limb
I shall leave the decay to the walking dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem