Poets dream and think a lot,
Concordia and betterment
In their poems can be found,
For Philosophy and Poetry
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The deeply corrupt
Always know how
To darkly,
Mock, the law
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Answers, Answers
Explanations!
Are there any?
To our inhuman
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Great and true Poetry
Is known, instantly,
And shines like
The Moon,
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A ship,
Without good Captain,
Will not arrive
Safely, at port.
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Yes,
An inner voice
Accompanies me,
No, it's not lunacy
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When love is lost
All hope goes too,
All those, Memories
Now, Solitude!
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As,
They cultivate
Hate,
The atmosphere
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The Naked Apes
Have made the World
An ugly place,
As they assassinate
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