the great endevour of being the
most lucrative being in the
world of hipocrisy is never
sought-out but always found in
the middle of people who reasons
w/o meaning...
now the fruitful savors their
luxurios banquet, while
the plagued are stoned to death
by those hipocriticlly perfect
who see w/ negligence...
the elderly pays tribute to their
benevolent praises, for their
feast are served in silver platters...
as promised by their leader, upon death
shall be a forever of ease living in
his trench of conditional happiness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem