Those who have clouded minds,
Seem to have been punished...
For thoughts they could have had.
But for some reason,
Resisted the process.
What is observed and has been tolerated,
Appears to be a curse of 'wills'.
And those who make attempts to correct this,
Are kept distanced because they are too loyal.
Too devoted to the betterment of the human condition.
And these are not cynicisms at all.
Sadly these are facts of goodwill being despised.
When mud slinging is discovered done,
In every crevice of a society 'purposedly' being cesspooled...
Faultfinding is no longer one's mission,
As much as a prioritized exit is to enjoy one's peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem