The roller coaster of pridictability.
Can you see it coming.
With words of season can you make it any easier to swallow.
Pushing play on the record tape recorder.
Stopping to take note, if similarities do exist.
Let's make a detailed comparison, a detailed compilation.
Are we playing loopy loop like little children.
See who can be the more stupid the fastest.
A head spinning, with such calming effects it should be considered some kind maddness.
If it is not a diease what is causing that disturbing laughter?
So giddy amoung a horror show.
Discriptions given there due.
Blood spattered upon page.
Are they nothing more then cordinated ink blots.
A dash of hate, a dash anger, a dash of rage.
Is love such a sick and twisted kind of thing.
The setiments of resentment even exist after ones death.
And forevermore the soul does rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem