You inferior creatures,
You pathetic servile,
you fear death,
whilst it's I,
who axiom
I'll attack you when you least expect it
I'll make you feel you were never born
I'll bombard you with all the pain
and sorrow
Oh and when your recover
I'll perish you in your salvation
I'm proud
I'm vanity
I'm fearless
I'm narcissistic
I'm Life...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem