may be there will be a bomb blast
or may be a gunfight
we'll get to know
some axis powers are behind this
do they have colors?
step up this way
these velleys of
green grass, the winds the rains
tall architectures
, ruins....
our land
two different world
in the harems of the king
many live puppets
tied up with the strings
some tiny pices of paper
and puppets dance
the king is silent
the king is showing wrath
the mob is furious
the rain of wicked adrenelin
some about to be raped girls
and yet silent kings
we are bound to obey
we can't say anything
so what, if the the uddars of cow
are going to feed the mouths already full!
we can just brush up the ruins
eat drink and be merry
taking some doses of lipitor
to reduce the wicked fat
or else they will life up the gun and shoot
things will go on
we have stich our mouth
may be there will be a bomb blast
some gun fight
let it be
let all die
the king is still silent
kings and onions are the same thing
the more you remove the layer
one by one
you just hold a big nothing
we are the onions
they are the kings
let's salute them...! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem