So the saying displays us, as a statement of zeal,
And virtues are gained forever this way, this feel.
The powerful people never work with oration alone,
Nor do they slip or make mistake, merely they have known.
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Our life has many windows of joy,
The joke is serious and to enjoy.
Our existence is special and fully exposed
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I have a god in my wardrobe,
And he speaks to no one like me.
All that is like the god is called destruction
Because it smashed into pieces, into many of them.
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God is the powerful one and resides in your head,
God has the initiative, and the love, and the cruelty
For every task to be performed by himself.
God has many angels of glory, and trusts them
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Pounding hellishly the rain has no business destroying me,
My journey is never to end.
Pounding continuously is the water of a scientific kind,
The one we call acid-rain.
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A child carries small limbs
Compared to the people who are gigantic-
The adults, who have cared for their own feet
And their own Heaven.
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The trees do grow and blow in the winds,
and stars emit light unfadingly,
This big land that is attractive
Is exactly the place of my heavenly dwelling house.
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Where is my house in heaven?
Is the mocking going on,
When the heavenly rage has become zero?
Truly the heresy has its faults,
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Consider that we might be existing
in a different plane of existence.
What would we have to do
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