Sometimes, ugliness should be preferred over beauty,
Even if duty has to get your hands dirty.
But the dogmatic stench always covers the fragrance of vitality
And turn every incipient harmony to atonality.
Thus murmurs the disorganized army of slaves
As algae carried by the waves,
Dancing unwillingly to an fantasized melody
That could never find its way to a memory.
Jumping like hungry beasts on carrion,
The endless tide of one-eyed barbarian
Tears the flesh, crushes the bone and the dream
In the most cynical way to redeem.

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