You knock on the door, you cry and you fight,
You take a sip form a cup of somebody’s lies
You rage like a kid, you laugh and abuse,
Try to make all those fools see the stupidity of their own rules

Others don’t get, they don’t hear nor dream
To find deeper meaning in things that they see
To explore this life on their own cul (***)
Feel the pain, agony, thirst and again be refueled

With pleasure – drop of rain, winds’ kiss on your cheek,
Rivers’ flow, roses’ smell, suns’ bright shine on your skin

Describe the emotion, state of mind, things with words
No, old language won’t fit here… must invent new, my own
With more of a meaning, and passion in it
More precise, more refined, and no “censorshit”

God I shall doubt, folk I’ll despise,
Contemporaries shall call me “spoilt little child!”
I won’t pay attention to those hypocrites,
My work now is done, pay attention to the…

My gift to this greedy, rotten, sickening world,
It’s this book of poetry, which shall speak in my stead when I’m gone
For I talk through the ages, through decades of time,
Now genius I am, and this is a testament of mine