I am not one who walks through desert storms
I am no hero searching for the truth
I walk down paths with those who misinformed
Believe I am more than a common youth
I have not lived an honest life thus far
Though when I am alone the truth shines bright
The light casts shadows where my morals are
And evil lurks behind in darkened fright
So should I grasp the hilt or leave the sword?
To let the rust embrace the steel, my friend
At least, it was before I had explored
And found the path would really never end
In truth, I think the sword is better sheathed
To hide the lie that’s best not ever breathed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem