Bits and pieces
They love piece not peace
No place for a bit of it
They adore war
They strengthen their shoulder
By ruining mine
Ready to carry its burden
They sweat to magnify the bloody stain
They have choosen the flow to sustain
Blood is what they sniffle, smell
Chaos what they dream, imagine
Crisis where the live, dwell
The prefer hell to heaven
And they use me for their plan.
I bleed for their ordain
I get smashed into pieces
For the hypocray noblist's ofpeace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem