Long Tod Poems

Der Tod Von Ein Dichter

not yet seen by others not yet devoured
all thy flesh not yet vain enough to lie
myself to sleep not quite through suffering
for i shall wait for the endless sleep

to quinch my thirst for death for my life
as an empty soul no river runs through 
where the devils has left behind wrappings
torn from my body my gift of love for

another ripped away at the roots 
to be placed in a jar to be preserved 
for the rest of thy living life 
no more weeping for a senseless pleasure

of breath for with every breath there's pain
so let me not ask you lord for light
for i only beg of you for death 
the senseless death of a poet