Where do our remedy lie;
From the trouble we face
To the luxury we chase
Digging a life to a point
It narrowly sprout
Since there're so many wound love can heal
Why give hatred a stool?
Why feel down and confused?
Doing that we once refused
It is our life we crucify
It is ourselves we chastise
Why seek for our own destruction?
With arms meant for our protection
The tragedy that befalls man
I usually think comes from God
Truly the maker has no hand in our mystery
We are the maker of our own misery!
Life is all about growth
For this I surely know
Where do the remedy lie?
Isn't in our own hand?
For dream do come true
Depending on the life you choose
The good that once turn cruel
Was a dreamer like you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem