No fair, is fair.
Beware of those demons.
For their not true.
Deny me the right and I'll come forth right.
Who are you to tell me what to do?
It's my choice.
Think you know me.
Bring it on I'm just getting started
Like a falling hero, I'm come in wounded
And I will leave only when I'm truly hurt.
Meaning I'm never truly be leaving at least not on your accord.
Babble on fortune teller.
Give the kick to me like good old yellow.
Die
Burn
And
Rot
Wither away with the coming age
Turn the page and their will be a new history.
One unknown.
Not of you
But of I
It is how it works.
Everyone must die.
~I am of the ignorant, but not to the point of not defending my self.
~John Bastian.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem