Conspirators among my holes
By the bastards who pierce the souls
Castrators by the current worlds
I should hate pretty girls
Grey toxins round the city
Fired harrows burn the trees
Tick-tacking clocks of life
Smacked face of wife
Cutting flowers that bloom
In the name of God or whom?
No place for white flags
Urban wars write the tags
Every being breaths to die
As the broken life of a fly
Nature’s empire in papers’ smile
Maniac Tuesday stops for a while.
