Sitting on this cliff I look up high,
far deep into this dark infinite sky.
To something which is not there,
and in any instance why should I care?
As I do not understand why,
its like caring for a small fly,
so petite and fragile in this world,
and aside unwillingly hurled.
As nothing is left between you and I,
and with an evil smile, expected me to cry,
but in this realm I have turned away,
as you will be gone at the break of day.
As I will not let myself hold you tight,
not letting you hurt me with your venomous bite,
And as off this cliff I just threw myself.
Ending another book on life's bookshelf.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem