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Crystal abyss, crystal sky
Steam is rising from the earth.
Everyone just close their eyes
To the sufferers who fall.

The atrocity of poverty,
The torments of need
Will be the reflection of greed.
Double standard, economic war,
Some bathe in luxury, some heal the sore.

When disgrace is a reprieve of death
It’s only censure instead of help
Motivated self-refuse
Martyrs were made for abuse.

Won’t her death be better than this life without joys?
It is just a matter of choice.
And if all the unfortunate were dead,
Who’d be unfortunate instead?

Thirst for life will make her suffer privation,
Be an object of constant humiliation,
For her brother, for her beloved ones
She will sell the treasure that she owns.

Once a beauty full of hopes,
Now a faceless gangrene –
What an awful scene.
First devoting, then self-mummification –
Showing signs of stable degradation.

Why the hell does she need freedom and grace
When she ‘s got the weak to solace.
The consumers tear her flesh to pieces
But that is still her own decision.

When disgrace is a reprieve of death
It’s only censure instead of help
Motivated self-refuse
Martyrs were made for abuse.

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