Everyone is afraid of death,
Of the moment when they give out their last breath,
But I don't share this feeling,
It's better than It's appealing.
.
.
I'm sitting here,
Watching the screen,
And thinking,
Not even blinking.
.
.
I always was like this,
Looking straight into the abyss,
But then it looked back,
ANd I lost the track.
.
.
So here I am,
In this lonely tram,
Waiting for my death,
For the moment when I give out my last breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem