I need that extreme Act, horrible an by far looks human. I need to blow my self up, alone, and faraway; so I can see myself afterward: shredded into human peaces and thoughts. I need that! From the moment of hearing a crying child in my chaotic vicinity, falling and flying metal fragments, to the tearing of my own flesh. I need that action so I can see my fate with my own eyes; feel it, hear it, and remember it. I need that action, so I can walk, talk, think beautifully and accurately without guilt and fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem