It is quite uncommon for a friend
To commit many acts of obedience;
Fierce acts comprise the solid alleys
Of the thoughts we lust for and desire.
Maybe friends stay at home, like an enemy
That salvages the savages of the past.
Obey those human beings all in the night,
Losing is confusion, passion has been.
The conversationalists embrace me
As spoken words are flying towards me.
Let obedience be disobedience
When the flight of animals makes them high
In status, in esteem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.