Yet, hand in hand with poisoned time, the Suchitas survive,
or those, and those who wander down their murky paths,
the great men who visit brothels survive,
the sacred, the most sacred incarnations of god survive.
When, one by one, the marketplaces of the world’s roads shut down,
the Suchitas awaken, the red and blue lights of their rooms ignite.
Those who, over this dying world, only spread despair with hints of storm,
yet, hand in hand with poisoned time, those Suchitas, those Sabitas survive.
