Myriad thorns are my head-rest
That ejaculate pain through their fibrous roots into my blood,
Misery endows my eyes with tears
Pinches my heels and ass,
In this, I believe all is well.

On-lookers wait to sympathize
As if I’m dead
Mockers engulf my dominion
To kick my head around the corners,
In this, I believe all is well.

I intend to fly in the sky
They pluck my wings
And tramp upon them;
Because of my situation
They name me
Tell me to grow old
Under thunder and lightening
Not forever it goes
In this, I believe all is well.

Going far from my tavern
To beg for food,
Those I call backbone enslave me
They throw me around like a rag
Appraise me with a bastard eulogy
Chanting abusive songs
Just for me
In this, I believe all is well.

Always say throughout my life
That all is well
When the tunnel is blocked
When hands entangled in the war booties
While my lips seal-up
Just like sugarcane plantation workers
I believe all is well
Until the sky is brighter without cloud.
Let everybody shout all is well.