It's the struggle of power,
overwhelming strained power,
now meaning far more then it did before,
over rating the system in which we so inaccurately graded,
Ideas like these must be,
confiscated.
fighting for it,
we still show no purpose,
it is man and the world,
and it's all we have to tear us apart,
distractions like these will never appease the,
unsettled mind the,
unwilling heart.
We are fighting for something,
that has truly already been declared,
why fight if the decision has been made,
for there is no hope in defying God,
If the game of cards,
has already been played.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem