God, this is an elegy for you

God himself was in wonder
in the uncovered tale of his forms
that from the ages
hearing the moans of unlimited prayers
how much he did mistake
that why he did not entered in the idols and pictures
to speak the truth

those who metamorphosed the wealth and religion
into the power of witchcraft
they entwined the turban of his incarnation
and are silently celebrating the festivity of his death
the illusions unarmed by the power of
their organs of sense
were also stretching out
to excel the graph of excellence

the devotees who recognize the fall and rise of market
and pulling out the suitable zests for themselves
from Amartyasen and Louise Althuser
are spreading away like a software
or a information network

god, who is slumbering in the drunkenness
of invisible and absent ether
and becomes destitute
seeing the world which is exhausted
by the song of his name

and lifting the hidden meanings
from the books written in the name of god
man announces the death of world and man himself.