Many left in peace,
Souls shattered, broken into pieces,
By this, not that culprit cause,
While we stood and looked the other way.
Can we count? Can it be counted?
On fingers and toes.
Imagine —
Out of how many?
They left in peace,
In piecemeal pieces.
Infamy.
There must be a stop to this...
This travesty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem