As the heat of the firestorm rises from its embers not its flames
The art of the deal is empowered by one's intent and not their tain
Not the Reflection as magnificent as the dancing fire
But the searingly combustible fuel of desire
If a deal with the devil is laden with deception
What kinda person fakes a deal with [a] god, upon unperverted introspection
The art of the deal is the same power saught
In assuring the Walls of Jericho are never forgot
That the resounding TRUMPPENCE still declare
The lives deconstructed proved [a] god was there
That the deal done was sealed in slaughter
Of every man, his parents, wife, sibling, son, and daughter
The art of the deal is the mad man's mask
It's how he cloaks his malicious task
To simply project he best a great enemy
That in truth, is just a reflection of his own evil inner me
2/27/2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem