I enjoy the blood spewing,
The gnashing of teeth,
Trouble that is brewing,
Every time I speak,
I sleep in blood,
Waiting for the next victim,
To fall unto the mud,
Or perhaps be eaten,
I construct the perfect plan,
To make the whole world bleed,
The disaster that I plan,
Strong enough to make the eyes bleed,
Am the architect of trouble,
Who never sleeps at night,
Making the whole world rumble,
When the time is right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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