I planned the music of my funeral
And laid me to rest, A broken little man
I planned my gravestone
And wrote an epitaph, lovely as I can
This life is the death I survived
The death i'm forced to keep living
Explains why i'm cold all the time
Every on the outside is quite deceiving
A spark, long reside in me
But now its dead and gone
Nothing left but an empty shell
A heart tragedy has torn and burn
I died a thousand death
And stare deep into that furnace
found my way back to the tomb
I slipped, gently into darkness
My lonely soul plot an escape
And bleed from slits that I make
I put me to sleep, to rest
Every step to you, is a mistake
I was killed long time ago
My breath doesn't mean I'm alive
Silence is deafeaning but I fought
Boredom, A companion and wife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem