A touch of sin alas Destruction and Death. Disaster falls like stars, Grave glitters like platter of gold. Valor soldiers fall on swords. Valley turns to burning desert, River of living waters Turns to bloods of valor soldiers. Kings wear rags like church rats, Royal progenies feeds on crumbles That fell in the plates of beggars, Royal crowns are made from thorn. A touch of sin clings To the hem of garment, Shame and reproach are seen On sinners; Death day is the blooming fruit thereof. Moon shines thick darkness, Stars fall on earth like rotten fruits, And the sun turn red spitting fire like dragon Yet no man let go off sin that clings to their garment. Atrocities filled the Earth like water filled the sky and oceans, People bath in the mud of sin And stand firm in wickedness they had known.
Be seen, heard, remembered... Memories count