like acetylene torch melting every solids
turned to giant furnace maybe hell for us
helicopters just circle around helpless
back in office a river of sweat and stress
small investors would be first to be eaten
sell now that you have still value left over
last straw is rapid expansion of gases
that caused reverberation to loud noise
everything is quiet but it's only beginning
to search for bodies is second in priority
to stop escaping black gold is essence
anything besides that is dump to nonsense
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem