I've Always Regretted That I'm Made Of

Do Not Feel Safe. The Poet Remembers. You Can Kill One, But Another Is Born. The Words Are Written Down, The Deed, The Date.

You Who Think Of Us: They Lived Only In Delusion... Know That We The People Of The Book, Will Never Die!

Two Attributes Of A Poet, Avidity Of The Eye And The Desire To Describe That Which He Sees.

Poetry Is A Dividend From What You Know And What You Are.

Religion Used To Be The Opium Of The People. To Those Suffering Humiliation, Pain, Illness, And Serfdom, Religion Promised The Reward Of An After Life. But Now, We Are Witnessing A Transformation, A True Opium Of The People Is The Belief In Nothingness After Death, The Huge Solace, The Huge Comfort Of Thinking That For Our Betrayals, Our Greed, Our Cowardice, Our Murders, We Are Not Going To Be Judged.