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TW: SUICIDE
“ Somewhere in a large country
They forgot to build
A home where the Sun doesn't burn
And children don't die soon after being born.
[... ]
And the soil here has another colour,
Dust doesn't let you see.
Men no longer know if they still are men,
But they want to believe so.
Mothers who aren't able to cry anymore
See their offspring leave.
Sadness doesn't have a place here,
As living is what's sad.” - En algún lugar, Duncan Dhu (Trad. Somewhere, Duncan Dhu)
SOMEWHERE TO DIE!
Somewhere in a large country
They forgot to build
A place where one can die
And after born one can choose suicide
*
Oh and in this city enlighted
Where is the place one can rest in peace?
They come after me and I’m frighted
I want to be free, to give death a kiss
*
Somewhere in a large country
They forgot to build
The suicidal parade
When walls fall down
Many lives will fade!
*
At life’s touch, we cry
Because this city wants us alive
When eternal-end can’t exist
Neither can one happy be!
*
Somewhere in a large country
They forgot to build
The high from where I’d fall
And then our souls would fly
*
Cemetery gates aren’t those of hell
They are those of dahlias’ smell
Not the way to avoid only your cell
But all Maximum Princeps spell
*
Somewhere in this large city
They forgot to build
A place where one can die
A place I’d call Alive
*
Somewhere in a large country
They forgot to build
Un lugar para ser feliz. (A place to be happy)
About the Creator
Matt B.
He/Him
A romantic reader and an amateur writer who likes to write non-conventional stories and unusual plot lines.
I read romantic era fiction and find myself lost in the pages of Dumas' "The Count of Montecristo" and Shelley's "Frankenstein"
A telegram to Little Me
I acquired a magical souvenir; it was a realisation. By taking an impulsive trip to Thailand, I awarded myself the chance to have it. You are our own gift shop. You choose the opening times, you choose the stock. They are the very nature of wisdom, realisations. One could say we collect them and form a magnificent portfolio entitled Experience. And that's why we do the majority of things we do. But travelling is the act most generous in the offering of experience, the gift shop with the best stock. We go on the hunt for experiences, daring ourselves to be stimulated in new ways, by new flavours. To sweat, swim or shiver in the waters of new challenges. To hear new sounds, learn novel outlooks, and relish as hinges creak with unknown doors opening in our hearts and minds. This realisation and the flourishing effect it had upon me made Thailand my best trip yet. All this realisation consisted of was merely a stripped back epiphany of why we do these things. See new places, take new risks, seek refreshing distractions from all that we're tired of being familiar with.
By Konrad Kramp3 days ago in Wander
Comments (1)
Wow - a different outlook. i think the indians chose when they wanted to pass, and walked off into the wilderness. I could be wrong ,