Parallel world is in making, am God
To my world, emotion don’t worth
Aiming to hell, tiring of this earth
Feeding lust, razing phony love
Unfolding sullen face, ceasing unfeigned hove
Lightening up the dark, smothering desired moral
Feeling soul in coldness, draining spiritual vital
Parallel world is in making, am God
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem