Lull them in a stupor of greed,
Untill you deliver them sin clad.
Lulled in demonic tunes of desire-
Lullabies ofshort cuts to wealth,
Tunes of killing whistleblowers.
On Sundays inclueless churches,
Allow them to share a filthy morsel,
Believing they are now cleansed,
Yet the soothing runes remain.
So you thought you used me?
Seeoh mortal, the gates of abyss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem