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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required When the earth crumbles Into something foreign and Suffocates me—dead Like a spider in the water, I realise what has been bothering me all along: It is my own mortality A distant song A bad fatality A cool, unopened telephone A modern dial What’s the use in trying To make life what it will never be A pleasure is not what life is about Because around you people are dying And there’s no time for crying So what is there to do When the earth crumbles Into something foreign and Suffocates me so that I’m foreign, too And everyone around me is foreign—dead —Alive—wishing to be dead—wishing to be alive- Wanting to give What we don’t have to give, Like a man inclined to drink himself to death On an evening like every other evening On a night like every other night - I take the shining bullet That my father left behind Because what use is there to live In an alien world where everyone is alien to everyone And wishing to break free, not to be alien Not to be sinners but to regain redemption We’re all so sorry for what we have done When the earth crumbles Into something foreign And suffocates me again so that I am dead And the bullet that has often shined doesn’t seem to shine so much any more, I will escape all that is alien by shooting myself in the brain And hope that death is not alien When I have always suspected that death is the same
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