I don't see the point of love
Like a rapture sent from above
To devastate and destroy
To build chaos and employ
It's own dark hand to wrap around our minds
Poisonous blight the best of it's kind
It buries our thoughts and keeps us in chains
Slaves to fuel it's beautiful veins
To the heartless and hateful we will turn
A clear swath to victory they will burn
They inhale the souls of the weak for their own power
Pray you don't remember the scarred and heartbroken
Not to cower and rage unspoken
The war will continue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'They inhale the souls of the weak for their own power...' How true. It's all about money and power, greed, and aggression.10++++++