Have you heard of isolation?
Being with yourself...
Isn't none too fancy,
even for your health.
It isn't safe to speak,
to yourself all alone.
It means you are losing it,
down to the very bone.
But what does it matter,
when life you see no more.
And what sight you do retain,
is fixed on Death's door.
You have searched for a reason,
from the ground to the sky.
So isn't it just funny,
You're the one whose life's purpose... is to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
FOUR WALLS - Mom Dad Brother & Sister