O Love! Where are you? Are you still alive?
Is it you that the bards blindly idolize?
In rhythmic cadence, in singing rhymes,
Revenrance in words and blasphemy in acts.
Is it you the haunt’d illusion dwellin’ the souls?
Flutters in antique classics and days of yore.
O Love! where are you? Am I blind? caus’ I
Don’t see you anywhere within sight. Sigh!
Have you ever visited our fragile globe?
Or, d’you only dwell the yellow’d papers o’ wall?
Come, Love! Let visit people under the roofs
Come! Let enter the modern souls and hearts.
Let visit the places of chaos, dust and wars-
Children and mothers in the districts of awe:
Where all roads lead to death, to grief, to loss.
O Love!! People see you in lust, in blindhood!
In greedness, in selfishness, in falsehood…
O Love? Am I a fool? Caus’ i can’t grasp at all-
That for you, O Love!!
They fight with their sweat, tears and blood
That for you, O Love!!
They beat the drums of war and raise swords.
O Sweet Lie!! Skulduggery wrapped in gold
Spread wings and brush the fallacy off.
So-called Poetry of Biba 