There are games to die for,
Played only in our minds;
A million weapons come our way-
Will we fall or save the day?
We've been training just for this
Throughout our entire lives;
The tension mounts, the time runs out,
Who holds the key- and is it free?
Did we sell our souls to win;
Will any be left to cheer us?
Or will they jeer us, once they know
We sold them out long years ago?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem