My own,
My own is coming out easy,
Most fools say we never making it,
Iam somehow free,
Eating my egoism,
My own is called vicissitudes,
Loving you was their hatred,
This heart all breathing freely,
Iam somehow free,
This is my own poetical value,
Could you picture that?
Profanity was not my name,
It was my own glory that I defame felonies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem