A new way to die, in death I shall
live, in life I shall die. The pattern
of our life is a continuous stream
of hopelessness and helplessness,
the future fades with each breath.
Our death is peaceful, fluent and
comfortable. Every day hope is gone
and every day it's an emptiness
that eats you whole. I die as I live,
with a head down and a heart six feet
under, what a thought that consumes
me. Perhaps I've gone mental, or
perhaps it be the sanest thought
my mind has ever let roam freely.
Either way its a free outage.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem