I don’t know what it does to me. I do,
But I don’t understand. The leathery
Morn’ sky pre-dawn giving up the ghosts of
Night. Odd silence, even the bustling towns
Are still, but I know only hours from
That this will be the only record of
True solitude. Sons of Adam receive
Perhaps an amnesty here, for peace is
So abundant. Yet here come the active
Dead, only destroying ignorantly.
Goodbye, my peaceful world, I will see you
Again tomorrow.
End.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem