A poor countenance in a rich environment is what you have brought
I have a lot to say;
The arrival of the Moon is a signal to your terror,
You unleash your sting on humanity
At night, we hear unrhythmical claps trying to end your game
Many are unsuccessful
Why were you created? I ask myself
You have become so rude
That you dare to spread your wings even at noon.
Oh ye Creator of insomnia
Every other insect is intimidated
When the mosquito meets with the cockroach, it asks
What are your feats?
The roach becomes numb
It asks the fly
How many deaths have you caused in the last decade?
The fly flies away
Even the almighty bee bows at its prowess.
Our environment doesn’t welcome the snow
Our insane gutters encourage your living
Our stagnant waters have crowned your reproduction
Scientist have made a cure from your sting
But it isn’t enough to save mankind
From your little big cruelty.