The dried tree of fortune fades from age to age, often leading to poverty.
A Chain devours its paradigm
Enveloping the trees of prosperity
The twilight priest nods clinch to poverty
Glorious days are in the long run
The stars of darkness nailed on a dot
Hunger links and fills the milk of depression.
Oh! Chain of poverty
Where is thy identity
Thou art sneak around goodness like a ceaseless fire burning in hell
Sorrowful tears deploy through sadness
Sticking to the colorful sky at night
Dust and fame that demanded struggles.
For poetry, articles, and more, visit Mecella.