It was my swagger; that
I encrusted the heart tender!
I am only the veneer on goodness;
And, that I am the Don of all depraved!
Honesty was my stranger, my heart nothing -
And, that I shall never have any crumbs left on me now!
Be free! I am buried deep - in the blood soaked graves of time!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
see.. you do it again.. and yet again.. 'encrusted the heart tender...only the veneer on goodness....Don of all depraved' awesome..