Senseless
Is life.
Stupid...
It's followers.
The very act of breathing
The precious air
Which spreads through…
Each cavity…
Each water barren hole
Inside this
Charred,
Broken,
Hopeless,
Waste,
Body…
Comes out,
Polluted.
Death,
It seems..
is…
Bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem