2.9 KiB
自杀
1939 March 21
Encompass’d with a thousand dangers, Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors.… I … in a fleshly tomb, am Buried above ground. —WILLIAM COWPER
Hatred and vengeance, my eternal portion,
Scarce can endure delay of execution,
Wait, with impatient readiness, to seize my
Soul in a moment.
Damned below Judas: more abhorred than he was,
Who for a few pence sold his holy master.
Twice betrayed, Jesus me, the last delinquent,
Deems the profanest.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me:
Hell might afford my miseries a shelter;
Therefore hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all
Bolted against me.
Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers;
Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors,
I’m called, if vanquished, to receive a sentence
Worse than Abiram’s.
Him the vindictive rod of angry justice
Sent quick and howling to the centre headlong;
I, fed with judgment, in a fleshly tomb, am
Buried above ground.
I lost
industrial revolution
We
put my head on the rumbling railway
listen to the sound of the train
quiet
Silence Afar
I Gazed beyond the distant, endless.
Pointless，that infinite dragged-on railway, slowly rusting away.
I lay my head on the ice-cold steel, letting it slowly freeze my body, mind and soul.
Quiet, calming, as the chaos in my head grew.
The sound of nothing is one that’s most deadly.
I gently fell asleep, restless.
Exposed and vulnerable, a prey waiting to be devoured.
Steadily amplifying in the background, a hint of Roughness, irregularly roaring.
Soon the sharp, no resonant sound of cold metal striking.
The clink and clanks of the mechanical parts.
Dragging of chains, smell of burning charcoal, piercing ring of bells.
Ripping me apart.
Sweet dreams, long-promised silence.
Spring past
Winter future
the return of a once brighter time.
The pressure of a single mom.
empty.
Riding with death
Die once
Violence
self- destruction
into oblivion
I thought of millions ways how I would end
Deep Waters , drowning, suffocating but can't seem to end it all.
who cares
manic depression
战争
isolation
未来
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Maybe the most delicate existence, is non existence.
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Encompass’d with a thousand dangers, Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors.… I … in a fleshly tomb, am Buried above ground. —WILLIAM COWPER
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I feel rotting in the inside, with rat eating
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my poem
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slight light
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the being of you give me. I don't want you notice, to become your burden.
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What is happiness sad and happiness reverse reliance and existence. happiness can't end.
happiness is the confuse nption that relies on an individuals incapability to or unreadyness to cope or face with one's desire
- lisa flower object is depressed