Neither happiness nor hope inhabits a sad past
Brought about by slices of secrecy
Steeped in heaps and tips cast
In a sea of sorrow and kleptocracy.
Neither happiness nor humility inhabits a sad story
Driven to drivel and drama hardly defensible
When tonnes of trivia tend to erect a fib factory
Where under no circumstances live the venerable.
Neither happiness nor habitude inhabits a sad scenario
Written in drops of scarlet blood
Poured from arteries, veins into a broken heart in Rio
Where the brave crave vow to wow a fondness flood.
Neither happiness nor history inhabits a sad situation
Concocted and dessicated in aromas of despair
Cultured in a sea of ill intention
That in the long run wrecks a pair that wouldn't play fair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem