A locus of humanity’s joy and laughter
The manifestation of felicity is clear
But what are those voices crying?
What are those howls and sounds wailing?

Beneath the shadow of every growth and refinement,
There lies a living death, nightmare and torment
Behind the umbra of this metropolis
There are life without life, a home for hapless

Can’t you hear the voices of agony?
Can’t you hear the cries of ill-fated like me?
We groan until our death.
We eat poisons, waiting for our last breath.

I am fated to be a prisoner of that darkness
Never expecting for any joy and happiness
I grunt, asking why fortune had to leave
To I, who was born with my own grave.