Mr Explosive,
He's the real denier of love
Empty of purpose.
A true believer,
Whose winging it,
Every day to Armageddon!
Loving hate is he,
Explosive!
Red, vital, cringing of,
Buffaloes and elephants.
It's all the same to
Mr Explosive.
The fall from grace inevitable,
As night follows,
Day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem