A dreadful illness
A circulated disease in the land of instability
It proclaims mixed illusion
It drives madness in humanity
Taunting on the chioces we cease to make
As it drifts souls around us
We in poverty
As elites preaches of their wealth as they back deaf
In cloth: are breasts sag women flirting with flies
That linked to their child as a result of their deed
We are found in these rich resources
But sown in this dreadful illment
Justice! As we reach to illuminate
The pains behind this dead illness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem