My dear,

If your days are decayed by dimming darkness,
If your dreams are defined by dimes and dollars,
If your desires are devoted to devoid designs,
If your deeds are deformed by decadent demands,
If your decrees are draped by deceitful dresses,

Then my dear, you're dancing with the devil of dread,

Denounce this demon of doom,
Distill this dull deity,
Declare the Divine delinquent within you.

If you do so, then my dear you will be diamond.

This century is of the cash and capital,
Its captains are collectors of credits,
Their collaborators are culprits,

This century is circumventing my calmness,
Its clauses are cuffing me,
Their conditions are confining me,

This century is a cruel calamity,
Its covenants are costing me my composure,
Their claws are creeping in on me.

My confidence is collapsing,
My clarity is crippled,
My consciousness is ceasing.

This century is carving out my carnage.