Who can we trust
now we have erected
false hope prophets
onto the stage of our control?
To who now should we turn as the papers burn
our names in ridicule
the sight of the eye in the sky?
the
pyramid
stands atop
Jerusalem built
anew
b l i n k i n g
eye
butterflies folding wings
the cocoon is lost,
the life once held
is vivid in our minds.
what promise is there for a future?
when we are all so forgetting the past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem