None hears my voice but my sad mirror
That reflects the images of pain and sorrow.
None smells the aroma of my poesy
But divine spirits that sail the sea of myth…
In ruins of my soul
Tales of old and floods of tears…
Fire of greed devours beauty
In a very heinous way
Hatred rapes the maidens of love…
Death becomes a game of pleasure…
So depart ye soul of evil
And let my poesy be the remedy..
