Pills and guns don't mean a thing.
Sin and death aren't wavering.
Nothing is, though.
So take a breath and let me in.
Or die. Or sleep. Or lie. Or think.
I don't care, though.
Let's go and die. Or something else.
You know, emo things. Like death. Yaaagh...
I kinda care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem