You broke my wings as I had anticipated
However, I kept flying as I had said
The case is not the hurt in my wings I feel
It is - you even felt no difference of the result

You did not consider how far I could have flown
How high I could have soared if you let me keep on
It didn't even matter to you anything, maybe
You are right, who needs a strayed poet or poetry?!

It hurts to accept sometimes a scornful truth that
Poets are weird and also clay-brained
Meanwhile, they can set a universe from a chaos,
But they can do it only when they are regarded

Who cares my suffers and fluctuations?!
Who cares even if myself cared about you?
I tried to **** the regret in your eyes I had given
But I see that regret has turned into humiliation

All poets are drifters, all have to be killed
And the one inside me worth dying the most
I give his death warrant to you to be fulfilled
I'd be glad if it changed the expression in your eyes