There isn't
A person in this world
Who can refuse,
Your naive paradise.
Why do you want
To make madness
Swathe our minds,
For the sake of your
sick delight?
Though we design
Our own checkerboard,
We are the
Pawns to your game,
of risk and humiliation.
Why couldn't everyone
be perfect,
as perfect,
so no one
would kill,
or die,
as a result of your blackmail?
Why do you transform,
a beautiful creation,
into something as repulsive,
as these creatures?
A golden innovation,
Turns an altered dye.
On the contrary,
Devoid of your
Presence,
Would there be such thing,
As love?