The death-calm took ahold of me
Swift, without cacophony
A sweet proposition
Whispered in my ear, and
Ever slightly, echoed here
Softly, gently, tugging me
Come nigh the edge, thus I see
An edge, and down, a chasm
But what a chasm! -deep and black
Its edge and unrelenting knife-edge
And the ever dreamt release of death
To me gave new mechanism, for but to
Calm my soul, my restless soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem