Different work of world,
Telling me paradise,
When its totally rubbish,
Telling me heaven, \when its the hell.
Why people force to accept,
The irony of each reality,
When artificial is prioritized,
The original is fancied,
To shelter the genuine form of fantasy.
Look at carefully its hues,
Scrutinize the structures,
Seems its perfectly genuine,
When you sign the receipt,
May we're not embracing the wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem