The feeling that makes all feelings go away,
Is the feeling of the ice cold metal,
Sliding across the skin,
With a blood trail following.
When you take the metal,
Away from the skin,
You see that the blood is now oozing down your arm,
Spreading the warmth of the blood.
When your vision fades in and out,
Is when you realize,
All your problems will soon vanish from existence;
You notice that you have lost too much blood,
And you are about to die,
And you close your eyes,
And say to yourself,
"The day has come to leave this cruel world,
And enter a world of forever happiness,
For I am done with this life."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem