The secret to happiness is to face the
fact that the world is horrible.
Bertrand Russell
We live a way to come up our misery through blue veins
But forgot the evils bleed onto the rotton thoughts
Whose imbelick reek just made our mind a hell to think
And something horrible is done, just to get the pleasure,
We are unknown to each other blood and veins and wines
And, those past done miseries do give us a better reason to cry
That we are always guided by some evil spirits into our mind
Who tend to the dark master of the fleshy and bony structure
Those dark days into the thin air just disappered into woods
And, witches are waiting to crawl into our horrible mind
We are just unable to pick the beauty out of the horror.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
something serious