Death
Dieing
Dead
Immune we are to such things
For those came to pass
Upon entering in
Pain
Hate
Greed
Suction of the beast
Only separating strong and weak
Simple games my friend
Turning round
Ourselves
Do we dance
Will you remember
Or have you forgot
Hell my friend
Is this ground
Is this pot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem