In lieu it erupts as abominator
Pigpen through the path mediator,
they quest; professors, inspectors and indicators,
but the veil is tightly knot as solicitor,
we've forgotten all we have, even the spectator,
the projector lost it's glimpse even with generator,
we thought we've contrived the precursor and not the incubator,
but the world whirls around is just an escalator!
Aha, an abominator, very heartbroken,
our story misstricken scowling for air plain-spoken,
are God forsaken or we've misspoken?
our stroken outbroken and lies awoken,
silken our path, harken and purloin of chicken,
but our stories, when will it stay awoken?
Awaken was mistaken,
the stories squinched far-flung, better not spoken,
at the same, it requisite not be unspoken,
fibrous jiffies are to be stricken,
heartbroken? Sorry we've not forsaken,
if we're, the world by now will be retaken!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem