Poésie Noire

With my head on the rail, cancer is living in me,
there is no way in, there is no way out.

He has got the plot in his hands, ever or never.
Lullabies to death, he came to the end of the passage,
the abyss is waiting, and heart stops...and heart stops!

Everything leads to an end, the crown of thorns on his grave,
the rose that withered silently...the rose that withered silently.

The struggle for life, sometimes....

R. Sometimes I wanna give up, lay down, and die in silence. (3)