By Anqi Ge

All poets go extinct 

Because the cost of living 

is intimacy and purity in heart 

Only the lucid men can survive

It is a crime to have dreams

And the penalty is to be drowned in solitude

Or smothered with misfortune in fate

Sentenced by the drunkards crowned kings 

Whose rationality is peeled off from hopes

And intoxication is due to delusions