Head bowed in prayer,
Hand gripping a knife,
A demoralized
Living corpse of a girl,
Prepared to end her life
Whispers to thee,
A higher being;
“This is your fault
As harsh as it may seem
I need you to understand
This is the reality.
My life consists of nothing
But pure calamity
The only thing keeping me sane
Is insanity.
A blood stained soul,
My bleeding spirit matches too,
Now I’m about to kill myself
And there is nothing you can do!
Well this is my good bye,
As finally my time has come;
I am truly sorry dear god,
But suicide has won”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Despite this obvious oxymoron, thank God suicide did not win.