Good people are going away,
As do the seasons and each day,
Some are leaving forever,
Switching stations some are.
The good ones have uniqueness,
Which the bad ones can rightly sense,
And driven by Iago-like-jealousy,
Turn the priceless moments into inferno eventually.
If the good people raise their voice,
Stopped they are at once,
The commoners seem to be devoid of humanity,
Since blind like Oedipus they are with eyes healthy.
Sometimes I think,
About changing everything in a blink,
If any step I take,
None is there for justice's sake.
Unfairness has become the statute now,
I wonder how,
The world is going to change for the better,
Change it shall, sooner or later.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem