This task is at last at hand...
It is hard that fact i've absorbed mentally in my DNA
as well as a'gland.
My powers curve on a roadly crooked and well mixed and twisted...
This road's scenic wonders why i am blinded misted.
I surge of power's over powering delight...
I'm addicted to it's highest night.
A sugary enriched high ensnares me well in it's snatchingly clutches...
Holding me way down is but of my own weakness's, as of crutches.
Around and around i mentally get into troubling schemes...
Left defensless with my fast and long holding mind bending themes.
I surge on in preditory unsurvival...
I'd been a lot better off if i had read of my Holy black bible.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem