I live in the Eternal Now,
hearing the Whisper of Death.
My world is half-eaten
By the Shades of Nothingness.
So many have been digested
By the Noumenal Predator.
We know not of.
The Karmic Fingernail scratches
the Chalkboard of the all-knowing,
un-thinking Universe,
blending with the Death Whisper
to make a screeching, silent symphony
within our heads.
.
Hearing, seeing, moving, tasting
are leaving my love and me,
leaving nothing but pain and weakness.
We are waiting,
Waiting for that time
when we will join
that unknowing unknown
with nothing left
of our worthless existence
but the music of these words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The use and the development of the music image is very haunting: all bleak until that final - though not entirely comforting - line.