Even their surfaced faith,
Has become a wailing dirge.
An addiction of myths mixed...
With mediocrity,
And vacant dreams.
A choice to believe in fantasies,
Has kept them stale and stagnant.
Loving their rituals that dig deep and hollow...
As they jump aboard a rusted merry-go-round!
And a life lived without values kept,
Void of discipline and principles of respect...
Creeps along in disengagement.
In a religous sinking devoted to despair.
Worshipped is this delusion of faded illusions.
Fed to feed on constant reminders of conflict.
As if a greatness restored will bring order,
To mental instabilities!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem