made with dust, origin of no beginning
power only by breath, the great existence
of Life has pave the way the vast richness
of the earth
what then profit every facet of life,
of where for only a little grain of brain
wish to be more than a diluted god of his
own
humble no one than the two bulging eyes
who refuse to see the unseen and believe
according to what the mind perceived to the
dimension of nothingness
fool of rapture, gallantry of no respect,
fuel by his own rotten wisdom, the coming
day has learn of its return and the end
started to be seen, be composed and lead
the way of your moment of close daylight
of your end...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem