LAST CYCLE © 2008
Hero of evil, in silence you rise,
In the vanity you cultivate, where salt is shed.
Through the veins of humanity flows the bitter liquid,
As you crush pain with your burden.
Your lofty, triumphant air, for now untouchable,
Will be shattered, broken, by the unavoidable word.
My hand, firm, in fearless writing,
Topples your pride, exposes your fervour.
And even if one day my hand is amputated,
I will not cease the struggle, nor close the journey.
For in writing lives the power of truth,
Which crushes vanity and liberates humanity.