When the streets Filled with blood When the blood Kisses my feet How can I write The beauty of flowers? . When the corpse Looks at me painfully When the humanity Whirling in hostility How can I write Bliss of the soul?
It's my own That can't be of others It's my own Where I can live in peace It's my own That no one can purchase It's my own From where I can decide My destination It's my own That no one can drag from me Oh! My death bed I love you the most.
Hunger - interminable Hunger for DEATHS . But no one can nerve To reveal the truth . Patriotism a guise Hostility the truth . It oozes the arms It bites the lives . Thirst of blood Quenched by death rattle