Listening to the lonely train whistle behind the airport,
landing in the midst of my own loneliness right now.
Entering an inner domain that holds the emptiness of my
soul, feeling like a non-entity, observing life going on
before me, yet not being a part of it anymore.
Divesting self of it's cruel identity in my life, taking
upon my shoulders the cloak of death instead, fitting me
comfortably.
Bringing a gentle silent peace into my heart, an essence
of death seems to be protecting me from life, absolving
all the suffering, taking me quietly into it's realms
where only the Divine dwells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem