Who is it that has ever known,
A showing of human emotion...
To expect expressed,
From empathetic demons.
Is that such a thing felt,
Publicly to witness.
And which demons were they?
Given permission to pay visits,
To those unsure...
About the comforting benefits,
That a living to dwell...
In Hell assures.
With this to offer and endorse.
And proven to accept,
While an absence of remorse...
Nowhere near demons like this,
Is projected to detect.
Who are these evil creatures,
Released from the crevices...
And cracks from gutters.
With druthers to smother,
A quality of life they despise.
To have their wickedness supported.
As they inflict division and racist hatred.
With this to wish and desire to experience.
And done with a consciousness.
Not only to approve.
But also believe themselves immuned,
From pain sustained...
Forever to maintain.
Bringing suffering that remains,
To their own bloodline.
For generations to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem