How do you feel when you become hand of death of your otherself?
Men in arms on arms
Colour flyers
Costumers of the night
Levels and prestige are priority
Cultism!
A house of red
Where hatred looms
Lovers of darkness
Drinkers of red
Eaters of meat not to eat.
Cultists!
There eyes always on head,
Their hands always with weapons
Of destructions
Their mind always in thought of evil,
In sorrow, but tending to be happy.
Blind but claim to see,
Dead but living,
Hopeless!
Wears mask of bravery
Beat the empty chest
Tagged himself horrible names
Seeks to be feared
Inflicting terror!
Backed by high and mighty
Used by them and refused
Which brings anger upon them
Cultism!
Different names,
War'ing against each others
Heads rolling,
Always in hidden places,
Drinkers and smokers
Womanizers and menizers
Cultists!
The oppressors
Failed promises
What pays not, yet they are in
Cultism,
Harmful and evil
To belong
To drill
To blend
Slangs so disgusting
Cultism, betrayal of thy fore-fathers,
Digression of original path.
Bringers of tears
Thiefs in broad-day
Rapist!
The devil's favourite demon
Sugar mouthed
Sweeter than honey
Masters manipulators
The gallows is always the end.
Rivery!
Hiding and running at all time,
Shooting and stabbing
One down! Another must be also.
Cultist!
Don't you have a heart?
You who turned the society into a war zone,
Don't you have a heart?
You who paint a horrible picture of 'versity,
Don't you have a heart?
Knowing so well it wrong
Not wanting to destroy alone,
Trying to make many more, a victim,
Snooping like devil him self, planting seeds in all areas.
Change!
For good, change!
Tomorrow is already here.
Put down your arms,
Or your days will be doom!
Hey!
Let it go!
Don't win more souls,
They are innocents
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem