Ode to olives

From the rubble of thousands' ash,

Arised a hopeful and immortal smile.

Then there the world is abash.

For thousand olives buried in fertile.

Divine forms have floated on,

Philosophy is vain and Science is fake.

Rule is dead and consciousness gone.

Peace is yelling, live for man's sake.

Why aren't those cries counted by hollow men?

Why Literature is silent, Arithmetic weak; Why

Craftsman has hidden the rustic pen?

As to me, are oppressed and they live sneak.

I see the lips down, eyes blind and voice dead.

Cunningness is buried in such a simple head!

Again I am vanity as I love the words fake.

Read a fake, sow the vanity and please..

Drink a toast, white bread and a vanity cake.

Listen the waves, fake waves, get some ice and freeze....