When the carboy became the same we stared at him,
Whenever you share your heaven with a car, be the light.
Light is a weapon of weirdness, I am an alloy of metals,
I feed on cowboys and indians as well, my worth is big.
To annoy me carries weight, it creates my rainbow and ice,
To be cold is to be warm, to disintegrate we are forgotten.
The decaying methods will define the modern world of today,
Tomorrow a sacred run has been established on the slope.
My boys are bad, any worms eat the worlds of witnesses,
But my eye witness is special, he is far too destitute.
Wells of thought drive my soul into the ground of hurt and soil,
The slope is established when the gradient of heaven is right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem