Wretched age in mortal sin of this ephemeral rage;
Their greedy hearts panting hastily to mortality,
Like whirring flies stooping sordidly to sad fate
Then how can be their annals be written fully.
I pine the less for decrepitude Age long years;
Their stifled eyes right for darkness howling.
I pine the more for the cease of Youth sophistries
Leading them to black darkness in dirge song.
The relentless means quest extortionating seek,
Sowing impersonal impiety and general complacent;
Is like a sailing ship lost with no compass in a dark
Ocean,subconscience  to a mind,yet charming in gift.
   Belt`d in this generation and smirched
   Too late too soon my spirit be stained.