There was so much pain
in the bundle of success he acquired
all at once he was a winner
the days of failure had gone
He laughed and cried
He screamed and danced
The excitement woke his heart
he arrived at a new dimension
The dimension was a demon
and the demon was dementia
He drove to the woods
He focused on his eyes in the rear view mirror
He smiled in the mirror
He tore the reflection from his car
As he walked into the woods
he skipped as if he were mad
Then he sat quietly
He held the flashlight he brought under his chin.
Then he looked back in the mirror
Then he took the weapon of choice
replaced the light with metal
He chose to die in the bliss
he could not handle
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is so nice. such an irony. happiness should not be cause of death, cos happiness is what keeps us alive.