Staccato beating, pounding notes into words, hanging in the air, falling into rhythms given to me in scores of compositions that I have composed through the years.
Many tears have fallen, leaving me lonely, tearing me asunder, falling into a deep, deep slumber from which I'll never awaken.
Too far gone, giving up everything, I fall forward and let go of all that I was - now I have surrendered to the infinite past of suicide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem