Death calls to my broken soul
the resting yard awaits
arrival to my boarded box
my final bed, my space
She whispers in my ear again
to leave this place behind
this nightmare that I call a home
this place that I call mine
everlasting words remain
her words as cold as ice
words that slow my beating heart
words that sound so nice
you can't undo what has been done
the coffin is sealed shut
Death has done her part in life
and led me to this cut.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem