ODERS bleed, like your pink abyss,
you fall out of your cage, then beg
the god -like figures to fix you up,
but the signs, and omens, point their
vulgar fingers, at you, then the
moon and sun.
METAL break downs, and electric
shocks, strip you of your worth,
and the promise of a beatifull
house,
but the signs, and omens, point their
vulger fingers, at you, then the moon
and sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem