forever i run
down the steep slope
i'm carrying a gun
i'm all out of hope
my mission is clear
i have to kill me
i have no more fear
now i can see
i died long ago
before i was born
and now i do know
my soul is all torn
my tired existence
is over and done
it's only insistence
on ending all fun
my journey was long
my feelings were pure
a blind endless song
that chanted my cure
as i fall down the hole
my limp body crumbles
as i detach my soul
my thoughts become mumbles
i don't turn to see
i just keep on going
i fly away free
a cloud of unknowing
there's nothing behind me
there's nothing in front
i'm no longer lonely
i'm no longer blunt
the person i was
has faded away
all this because
i died on this day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah, Brian, there is always hope. Always hope and a fresh new tomorrow. Marilyn