During my quiet time, i sort to write a poem, an act i haven’t performed for a while now. i formed a mew word in the process- kleptos (it means the Lord of all acts connected to stealing). When the word enters the dictionary, i think i should be credited as the originator. This poem is composed for humans who love stealing. well, it seems i’m preaching but i certainly do not wish to do that.

This is the poem. Enjoy:

Our boulevards are filled with purloiners

Who covet the tract of others:

From gold to tablets,

Clothes to ARTICLES,

They are Lords of them all.

Their filch painted hearts

Are artifacts for the museum;

A place for eternal darkness

With their Lord KLEPTOS

Until they regurgitate their acts,

Spread them on the lines of shame,

Turn their backs on their lord,

They shall enjoy their wealth

In the Red-hot bath of Furnace.

Feel free to comment and share your views. you can ask questions too.



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