(2nd Part: Poetic Choice)
The potholed road in the mid will lead me to be
a tragedian, who may ruthlessly be ridiculed,
or viciously be poisoned, if cannot be enticed,
for seeking or bravely revealing the agonizing truth;
who dare use their voice for those of Medusas,
whom his atrocious story has turned into worshipers,
with long-nosed and hairy-chinned, rude gossipers,
deceitful snake charmers and distorted spell-binders;
who may strip the blind veils of cultural fetters,
and compel men to see how T-Rexes are devouring
women, children and diverse other tiny creatures,
who need to exist to double the beauty of this globe;
who may ever be ready to shed warm tears of blood,
or fearlessly dare trouble any man-made trouble,
and when the whole world rapidly hurls down upon,
stand immobile considering it as an empty bubble.
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