A Dead Poem

Focus tomorrow`s horizon

Sorrow means no future

Cover my face

With my guilty hands

It`s the season the trees die

The birds don`t sing anymore

The rivers never come back

Nature dies out

This tragic future

destinied to hurt never heal

What end can save me

What good gives me an end

Nothing is innocent

Nothing is fair

I keep wondering

How did I end up like this

First passion

Now is lost

A dramatic dead story

I killed all I have

My sadness is

Translated into madness

I spell meaningless words

A poem for sorrow and death