The anynomous doubts, full of fear;

To know, you pass an infinite layer,

Isn't it fictional to make it clear?

Who bothers to collect the tear drop,

Busy gaining money for their mean crop

Isn't it fictional to make it stop?

Why to neglect, who can't see spring

Why to discriminate, being calm with to sing,

Isn't it fictional to make it the king?

Air of competition ready to fight,

Sun of cruel ashes, ready to light;

Isn't it fictional to make it a night?

The race for ranks, with the empty minds

The red transparent color everywhere to find;

Isn't it fictional to make it a little kind?