I guess the heaven is closed
For when i gaze out through windows
I find a ghost dealer
Composed with hell rhymes and rhythms
With sure for a needless heaven
At a sure of expected rhymes
Man has absurd efforts for progress
The progress in sins and fouls.
I see the dealer is observing
The matches and patches drowning
Goal of soonest for progress
Man is departing from the center
My guess becomes for sure
When i don't find man, for man
Where I find empty claw of objects
With the savage theory of man.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i think you are very disturbed as it is the poet which brings out the vulgarity of man.10+10+10