I quell the masses with poetry,
Opening blameless ideas like fire and ice,
Your light is lived in, inside the spectrum,
Once positions are guaranteed.
Fully developed societies may collapse
Without my poetry and verse.
The sufferer of my prose is exactly perfect,
He or she combines intelligently the matters.
To sway the masses we all enjoy,
Picking the right sort of objects
When vandalism objects to our living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
truth is bitter.............