Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Evil Philosophy Poems | Evil Poems About Philosophy

These Evil Philosophy poems are examples of Evil poems about Philosophy. These are the best examples of Evil Philosophy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

Silent Lies and Deception

Silent Lies and Deception


In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue

The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits

Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence

When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you

Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you

Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night

The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks

Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception

	Dead Sea and salty tombs

		Silent in womb


Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

The Hanging

The jury was unanimous
Twelve cried out justice
Guilty
It was just before the changing hour
The hanging planned for quarter past midnight or so
The moon was full, the shining light exposing deaths dance
The grim reaper was ready, one more for his collection

I was ready for this moment
Ready to face my freedom and my death
Long ago, a mirror shattered into twelve pieces
Twelve faces who said I have to go
Twelve past the midnight hour

Sacred ghosts haunting twilight hours
Whiskey filling the soul soon to be departed
The hangman at the ready with a somber face
For his duties he did not so much embrace
This evening he knew the hanging would take all effort
Of spirit and determination
To send this one of to his eternal damnation

He was shivering and I sensed in fear
As I stared at him solemnly in the mirror
We both eye to eye knew this day would come
The hangman and me, conscious of the sum

So the note was neatly written
The whiskey bottle all alone, empty on the floor
I stood bravely or maybe cowardly
Upon the wooden chair

The rope I wrapped around I my neck
As the hangman in the mirror was in despair
I patted him on the back and said no worries my friend
This, you see is the end of it all
All that we ever both wished or dreamed

A week or two later
They found the hangman
A rope around his neck
Staring blanking in the mirror

A note on the bedside table
Told this story as you hear
A man with a broken heart
Hanged because of his own mutilated reflection

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

The Root Of All Evil

To find the root of all evil,
One hasn't far to look.
It's not some shrouded mystery,
Concealed within a book.

The truth is right before your eyes,
It hasn't been concealed.
Eliminate the branches first,
And the root is revealed.

Let's look at money, first of all;
Could it be evil's source?
It makes us do the vilest things,
Without guilt or remorse.

More blood was spilled pursuing wealth,
Than any other goal.
And for the life money provides,
Some even sell their soul.

But if it were to be removed,
Along with earthly gain,
Erased from human history,
Evil would still remain.

The same is true of war and hate,
Of vanity and pride,
Of politics and religion,
And all things that divide.

Eliminate them, one by one,
And you will understand.
They're simply branches of the tree,
But they don't make it stand.

The root that gives life to them all,
Is right in front of you;
Sustained by every breath you take,
And everything you do.

It is the root of evil's tree,
The source of our Lord's tears,
Eliminate the human race,
And evil disappears.

So if you're looking for the root,
Can you accept what's true?
The answer is a damning one,
For evil's source...is you.

Copyright © Mark Spencer | Year Posted 2011

Details | Kimo | |

Evil

Evil is a spiritual maggot,

                             That devours the heart and mind...

                                                                       Leaving the soul to rot.



                                                                        Timothy I. Brumley

Copyright © Timothy Brumley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

King Vlad

King Vlad is anything but Democracy’s man of the hour.
Rather, à coup sûr, he’s really Stalin’s nasty little boy
who ironically parades "svoboda" and "glasnost" like 
he really means them—actually he means them not.

King Vlad’s political traditions and pronouncements 
are well-known among those who are sadly aware
of his tapestry of treachery and deceit—oh so slovenly woven
for all to see, just like some of his fellow-gangster favorites:
Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, and Andropov.

King Vlad is anything but a real world leader . . .
His "Kind" are an open book for all to see and understand
what they are and what they mean for all who strive
for openness, decency, and real compassion in the
twenty-first century world order.

King Vlad—just like his Dracula name sake,
is a man without a soul, without a conscience,
who shall never shudder, wince or cry
at the piercing death rattle of a Kalashnikov.

King Vlad is truly no friend of Democracy, 
sounding even at times not unlike Hitler;
he’s a demon leader with innocent blood on his hands,
always quick with the old Soviet reply:
Lie . . . Deny . . . Accuse . . . Reject . . . Criticize . . . 
all tools of this redoubtable master of prevarication.

King Vlad should know that the Heavenly Souls 
of flight MH17 know the "bitter truth," gorkaya pravda, 
surrounding his lies, treachery, and deceit—all pejorative 
attributes to a man with the mask of a real monster who 
had the very best Soviet teachers.

And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . 
How do you like your nasty little boy now???
He’s right up your alley, right???

“Putin” has five letters just like “Devil.”

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (August 9, 2014)
(Free Verse)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Remember where hot lightning bolts flash down,
Its sun-fire heat burning in a tragic strike!
There perished mother and her little tyke;
Tragedy there, where the angels cry and frown,
And sing their saddest songs upon the waves:
Doom and gloom a sad fruit to be born
Taken long before Gabriel blows his horn.
Judged by Fate no power in Universe ever saves,
Yet no man lives that can ever be so sure,
That misery will forget to take its toll
Upon the peace that stirs the blessed soul!
There was peace: yet no peace can insure,
Paradise will be waiting for its fair guests,
The great promise, its most fantastic lure!
Security of life and limb of angels so pure:
Or protection from Evil that so eternally infests.

Robert J. Lindley, August , 1973

Note: A poem from my private journal, from back when I wrote a bit more in the old style.
Sometimes I dearly miss writing like this..... and that muse that raced so far away!

p.s. My first wife(future ex) thought this my best poem ever. 
At that time I had several hundred written.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | |

Good- Verses- Evil

   

What do you do when life throws you a misguided curve?
    You just keep on chugging, never losing nerve.
It’s easy to quit, give up, holler I’ve had enough.
    But just shake it off, get tough, show em you got the stuff.
Pity parties are for losers that will only sire defeat.
    Never stop trying even when better judgement says you’re beat.
If you’re not fully charged with a positive electrode,
    Then it won’t take much of a negative to drain your load.
Keep yourself charged with a positive upbeat,
    Then you’ll know why I say victory can taste so sweet.
No matter who you are there is always somebody that looks up to you.
    So be a role model, set good examples in all things that you do.
Your one fleeting moment of good may set the tone,
    To that someone that was watching, that you may have never known.
Take it from someone who has been on both sides of the fence.
    A positive and good attitude is always your better defense.
Just have faith in knowing that tomorrow the sun will shine.
    Just in believing will give you a much greater peace of mind.

                                                                       

Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2007

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Game

My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played, 
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.

The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.

I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,

So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth, 
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.


Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.


I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.


Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.


The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.


The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.


So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.

That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.


The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.

more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse | |

The Eye

The eye,a sign the 
unwise can't comprehend
  Forged from the world's 
origin,an 
illumination in darkened 
minds,for the 
enlightened ones like 
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac 
Newton,John Milton....etc.
   The eye is a tree 
with many branches like 
Priory of Scion,Knight 
templars,I.O.G.T,United 
Nations,Masonic 
Lodge,Music industry, 
Politics,global economy, 
etc 
stretching beyond 
human imaginations-felt 
in all corners of earth.
  The world is clothed 
through wisdom from 
above.
   The eye,all seeing 
sign,an invincible 
emblem of power and 
riches to the lion hearted 
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and 
fame.
  Creating the social order 
through men of power....
  Some see it as a 
curse,others a blessing.
  I feel it,the great eye is 
everywhere watching 
you!

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Hunter

You speak to me of Reason? 
this night of celebration
when there are many people about
laughing and stumbling
around the Bonfire.

no.
speak of Reason to them.
as for me, 
i wait in the Shadows.
there is much work to do.

Copyright © Sam Toil | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Irony of Eggs

All eggs are White when Laid
But some may not be as good as others
Even if kept safely in a safe environment
you only come to know about this
(unless  you had  tested them for fitness in some other way)
 when they crack and at least one of them
Turns out to be a bad bad egg
Like a black sheep of the family!

Copyright © mazhar butt | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry | |

Twisted Fate

Take your knife
Carne con sangre
On sale here
Cut me up
Slice me dice me
Taste my sour blood
Savor the flavor
Revenge is on sale
Bitter and sweet all for you
Bile flows through me
Thinking of your hate
You may have butchered me
Slaughtered to rot at high time noon
I have a revelation for you
I love gardens and flowers
I now am one with them
As I feed them, and bring beauty 
To those who quench the thirst of love
I kiss the sun and laugh at you
hahahahahaha

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Good AND Evil

To the darker side is the human inclination adherant 
To the evil impulse it is strongly adamant
But what  vile part of anatomy urges it to be so delinquent
What abets his innerself 
to disembark from the lane of good
The fulcrum of his conscience
weighs heavier on the evil side
There are dark shadows on 
the inner realm of the soul
Yet there are stronger lights 
And a mightier force to balance the rusted fulcrum
What divine part of anatomy
urges it to the lane of right 
It is 'Him'  who resides in every being
In the good and the evil 
In the saint and the devil

Copyright © Ria Vij | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Vengeance is Mine

Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord 
A statement I'm sure we've all heard at one time 
Also a very tough one to deal with 
Vengeance is not ours according to the Bible 
It's left to faith 
It's left to the belief that the horrific crimes of others will be dealt with 
I, myself have a hard time with it 
I have no choice but to follow it 
Even if I don't agree with it 
I would like to believe that evil will be dealt with 
Or is currently being dealt with on some spiritual level 
I would feel better If I knew the outcome of the vengeance 
If I could see the result 
See the "check" being paid as it were 
I am having trouble not seeing murderers get what is coming to them 
I can live without killing them
I can deal with them being locked up for life 
But I want something more than that...........................
Say..........
Hard labor?
Daily torture?
Public caning?
Castration?
All of the above?
Prison is no longer a viable deterrent for the horrific crimes that occur 
Every year we as a species seem to find new and more grisly ways to murder each other 
What will this year bring?
What will be this year’s most shocking death? 
And who will bring it?
The kids?
They seem to be the latest thing in absolute shocking carnage 
Or maybe this will be the year of the female 
They have been lacking in the body count of 2009 
Maybe this will be their year 
I wonder 
Do you even really care?
Thou shalt not kill 
It seems that statement has fallen upon deaf ears for quite a long time 
You know.............
If we as a people didn't have religion 
Evil wouldn't stand a chance 
The sense of right and wrong 
Would destroy the evil of man without a thought 
If you knew you could destroy an evil person and not pay religious consequences would you?
Of course you would 
As most of us would 
There is no remorse for doing good deeds 
And taking vengeance upon evil 
Is noble and just 
But the rules of religion say we must not 
The rules say we must rise above it 
And trust it will be dealt with 
Keeping the faith it will be done 
To try and hold this commitment 
Is in itself God like 
Which is why most of us fail 
And fail miserably 
We want vengeance 
We want their death 
We want them to feel our pain 
Our suffering 
Our loss 
Our sorrow 
Our anger 
Our hatred 
Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord 
And it is because of this statement 
That we have faith 


Eric (and sometimes not) 


Copyright © Eric Nolan | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Philosophy on Life, Evil and the World

Philosophy on Life, Evil and the World

The Masters, serve their greed
take from those in great need
Such is evil's darkest cloaks
swallows that so often chokes

The Blinded, serve very well
masters in the pit of Hell
Each has a false laid pride
darkness is where they hide

The Slaves, eat deep regret
of life they'll never get
Each accepts a darkened yoke
defiance rarely ever spoke

The Brave, sail with heart
paying from the very start
Sacrifice to save our Souls
Deep river, so many shoals

The Warriors, cut ever deep
die as family sets to weep
Freedom's mantle they serve
with epic hearts, iron nerves

The Innocent, stand so bare
suffer greatly, so few care
Yet they are the true treasure
their test is the real measure!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-05-2014

note: Impossible to include ever 
group so this poet came up with 
these six to write about...

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

Devil's road

Leaving behind the refined day
A silent night, bright moonlight, you're here to stay

Disposed from a curse, i give away, set free
Darkness in the horizon, i closed my eyes to see

Assembling the patterns of the shattered soul
Making a pledge with no control

All morals have been sold
A clear path showing the road
Dominated by the scent of black roses and seeds of gold
It's devil's road, you've been told.

Copyright © Mohamed Sarar | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Violence as an instrument

Violence in quest for 
justice is virtuous but 
in pursuit of vengeance
it’s wicked.

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Depression

Depression

3 o’clock in the morning…
The sounds of bed frames hitting drywall,
The sounds of Chopin and Coltrane played
With a hint of sadness in tone.
Sounds of whores and pimps arguing;
“Where is the money, you whore?!”
“I don’t have the money!”
A sound of a slap to the face
A big hand crushing bone,
Blood everywhere
Red streaks on white walls.
The sound of drunks walking gloomy streets,
Police and ambulance rush down burned out streets
Sirens wailing, crying out!

A child, six years old
Crying, “Momma! Momma!”
Shedding tears over his dying mother, lost her soul to the
Crack pipe.
Rest In Peace.
A sound of a .357 magnum revolver click
And a gunshot shakes the nerves of many,
And for a moment the sweet and peaceful silence.

“Dispatch, suicide on 46th street Hollywood Boulevard, Send the Corner. Over.”
Then the darkness sails over
And the entire cities are showered with tears from the heavens,
But no one weeps,
Not a single soul…

-10/2/13-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

Face your demons

One must face his 
demons before he 
can conquer the 
devil.

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |

The Light of Socrates

Ignorance is dark
knowledge opens up our eyes
Socrates was right

Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Hoss, Hell Ain't Full Yet

Hoss, Hell Ain't Full Yet!


Dark deeds done in dead of night
Eventually, all come to the Light
Watch your step, hedge your bet
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

Set your excuses completely aside
Evil takes you on a deadly ride
Think, grab all that you can get
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

Badly mistreat an innocent child 
Think, such is nothing but mild
Hoss, that desert just ain't wet
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

Force a woman to give when she won't
Think, you skate but Hoss, you don't
You'll face a judge you have not met
Careful , Hell ain't full yet!

Steal from others to satisfy greed
Destroy all around like a nasty weed
Think, you get by, your life all set
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

You murder, take any innocent life
Spread misery, evil seeds of strife
Think, no damn time for any regret
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

If you murder, steal, lie or rape
Think, a path exists for your escape
A fool's errand , a darkened mindset
Careful, Hell ain't full yet!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-18-2014

note: Inspired by a poem I read long ago 
authored by Frank L. Stanton ...
This my original reply to that great poet's
 message and poetry form .

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Eternal Chess Game

Down the narrow unending hallway of my keep, 
To the last door on the left, 
I rest my head for a moment of sleep. 
As I fade to dream I see a tunnel of light, 
A small space of illuminated madness, 
Where demons cringe and angels delight. 

A place long ago hidden and known by few, 
Where the sands of time have come to a still, 
A maze of light and darkness is what I have come to. 
I realize I am not in heaven, nor in hell, 
But rather in a impermeable shell. 
Surrounding the purity of the light, 
Lies the beast of the night. 

An unyielding guardian of incredible might 
Displaying unholy darkness, 
Taunting and teasing the light. 
"Come on out .." he would seem to say. 
Away from its shell, 
The light did dare not stray. 

For within the virginity of heaven's keep, 
The angel of light finds his peaceful haven, 
A place so pure even the horrid beast dares not to creep. 
He knows his limitations, 
Regardless of the how strong his power has become, 
Forever shall he cower at the grace of revelations. 

Yet revelations alone are not to contain the beast, 
No not in the least. 
Limitations like rules are meant to be broken, 
Bountiful evil incantations are repeatedly spoken. 
The spell of light that feels the need to control, 
Becomes undone, 
All from the darkness of one evil soul. 

Yet there in the heart of the darkness the light remains to be free, 
No matter how hard to darkness tries to invade, 
The purity of the light holds the key. 
A never ending struggle within the mind of one, 
Light upon the darkness, a balance never to be won, 
Forever shall the chess game continue, 
Neither one to give an inch, 
Neither one to be outdone...

Copyright © john jenkins | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative | |

The View

Narrative...

The View

At the end of Mulberry street
stood a massive old and weathered oak. 
With an owl rested there every night , just waiting
for the right meal to wander by,
then silent wings swooped effortlessly down
the massacre hardly made a sound at all.
I watched from my bedroom window each night to 
see this act of natural savagery and the feast
Even saw a black kitten become the monster's meal
Yet never did I think of it as barbaric savagery 
because man eats whatever he wants with arrogant glee
As master over all creatures and with contempt
for the weak and lame,
Throat cut and bloodied the cow so peaceful
becomes next day's burgers and we bat not an eye.
Unholy indifference reasoned to be a normal act
by we lords of the earth, we takers of all weaker
things.
Great to find the old Mulberry still a launching pad
after these past decades. 
And man changes not except his clothes and his
ideas on his superiority over known and unknown Universe. 

Robert J. Lindley 
April 7th. 1992

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Elements of Evil

Evil is like a molecule 
it’s caused by multiple 
elements of which fear
is the root, lust is the
branch and pain is the
leave. Though violence is 
sometimes necessary to 
dismiss evil, the only 
antidote is love. 

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Salt Water

A thing so paradoxical desire;
So all encompassing it’s grasp;
A curse of eternal thirst- 
Though we are drowning.
Hands desperately scratching for a life raft
That is secretly made of the same water we drown in.
So we continue our daily floundering
Chasing a trail of crumbs we call “Hope”

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

Introduction

hello my friend, stranger walk by,
borrow a moment, spare me your lie,
through pen of the narrow and mist of an eye,
below absolute zero, someone will die;
sentence to rambler, apple hereby,
flute of the meadow, mandrake will cry,
in front of the riddler second might try,
get out of here mortal,
exit near by-e.

angry as he strike out his pen,
get out of here demon, get out of this den,
in thousands of years how long has it been,
when scriptures wear sandals;
on meadow you land, many bear seasons,
stakes shall bend, lantern still burning,
your letter is send.

Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC | |

Death Mad and Blind

Dot-matrix monotony beasts,
Bring endless agonies and fake archetypes,
To drown the silent scream of nothing inside.
I know now why you turn up the noise.

Hide your ears, as they pound on the drum of sadism.
Because I howl the song of terror.
And now we both become batteries.  
You the positive, I the negative,
Existing purely to give power to the another.

Their box of lights bleeds our minds.
With a thousand meaningless babbles,
Like over-zealous wasps.
Senselessly knotting round and around.
Constricting mind, body and soul.

Under this monochrome sky,
In this thick, wet, air,
They are almost tangible.
Tasted, smelt, but never heard
Cartoon wraiths flitting at the periphery.

Not waiting, not feeling.  
Blind mechanical bats.
Without voice or form.
They feed my failings,
Fattening me for the feast.

But they hold no malice,
Just a circuit with terror as it’s current.
They no more hate my soul, 
Than the fox hates the rabbit.

Fearing these surrogate pulses, 
I pull a blackened hide over my shoulders,
And with snakes for eyes, I pull on chainmail gloves.
The metal cuts my skin, the rotting hide constricts
 My last breath bears a spirit,
Which eats the sky like a rusty knife.

Copyright © Danny Stockton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Living

Living is a torture
in a world bounded 
by a blaze of demon
fire.

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Fighting the same Devil

life is a game 
to tame. It is 
give and take 
Build and break 
We ought to be 
a team fighting 
at different levels 
but dealing with
the same devil.  

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

End of consciousness

Death is the end 
of consciousness 
for the righteous 
but for the wicked
it’s the beginning 
of eternal crisis.

Copyright © Haile Tesfaye | Year Posted 2015