Silent is the killer
Of spirit and soul:
Cold, efficient user of
Stealth and subterfuge
To dismantle the whole.
Formed within, a creation
Born of lament and anguish
Takes root, festers and
Multiplies—crafting plans
To effect the final wish.
Captive in a mind game
Where depression presides,
The silent many—despondent,
Disillusioned—move to seek,
To act, to welcome the lasting
Peace that death provides.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Verily, the sick mind welcome death in anticipation.
Thank you so much for your kind remark and stellar rating. Should you ever realize deficiencies in my writings, I welcome any input that may provide for a better produce to my readers.