Oh how great is it to be known
those shimmering spotlights
the countless attention you receive
the prevalent praises you hear

Those people who befriended you
embracing all the ideas you express
does everything you directed to do
like a puppet in a string

Those plastics who act amiable
advocating every achievement you make
never spoke of an awful thought
like a disclpe to its emperor

Those people who follow you everywhere
kissing the ground which you stepped on
hugging all the things you have chosen to use
like a stalker to its lover

But when everything else becomes an oblivion
that ends the very ground you protected
those poeple who adored and worshipped you
will betray you like a dictator to its domain

Now that everyone despises you
hating the charisma you try to recover
the glory you are begging to return
now fell as Rome did

Can you still say it's good to be known?
Or you wished you've never been?