Your touch is contaminating.
In which brings chills.
The génie in your voice has silent the impulses that awake the inner skin.
Your manipulation prevents the vision to notice the fate.
The forbidden signs constantly appear in the rear-view; the GPS must be broken.
Because each generation was chosen to be inspired by the next but you criticize translating death to the ears just to belittle us; causing us to envisage in hopes to seeing beauty in every creation.
The contamination has taken away the power we void to stand for.
We substitute love with pain injecting it in our veins; preserving through life wondering if it upgrades to rage how willing we be to change.
BANG!
The wicked surrounds our lives and it’s drowning the content we long for.
The darkness forms the night; while our souls are shadows in the darkness.
As a unity we must pray.
'To the most high we plead save us”!
For temptation is like a virus continuously spreading in our inner core.By Milton Styner, Jr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. Read mine - If There Be No God - Adeline