I.
O what did I do to deserve this fate,
this bloody awful fate? Blasted,
I must escape...I may be helpless,
but I’m certainly not hopeless!
I will survive...and I will come out
twice the man I used to be!
II.
I’m slowly decaying...decaying away!
But I cling on to my hope; although,
I must confess, my hope is dwindling.
I’ve become scraggy, ill-feed, cold,
and dehydrated. But I must survive...
(coughs violently) ...I must.
III.
O death, sweet death, take me away
from my physical hellfire; I can’t...
I can’t strive to survive any longer;
nor can I live in fear of you any longer!
I’m ready! I’m ready to submit to my
unknowingness of you! I’m ready!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem