One So Grave A Piece Poem by Matur Achuil

I love not for gains nor to drain
I lost not for profits but benefits
I give not to take but to make
For last is perfect the first is defect
I default to honor even when lost
Same as I'm to strengthen than to weaken
My dream victory is in their happiness
And for that, I journeyed to love for destiny
In truth, I will be fated, disposed and care not the lost,
Even that make me a hero of my own just as I wanted.
For the world is my reason to living and life!
Hey the gods are quiet for their ears you have deafen
My voice they couldn't hear just as you made them.
And now you call me my-them and let it all do I,
What the lust lower as love and hate together United!
In the drainages all is lower as light not so dark and creamed
In the nearby factory stench of fresh and rotted all they bother
What god-them-hell is poison so sweet gives your hands?
Has not the eyes so wide and glassed not real and visioned?
Oh! Old slick and wool not then metals of grill and chains.
Soft to notice the hard it got to strangle the young and soul