Fare-well, you writers of old.
A time comes, where I am
not able to speak or think,
Please forgive my intentions,
for I will forget yours...
=*
 I am not able,
 to describe what I do
 when I do not do this.
 Even if I do other
 besides of this.
*=

never could I guess, that
this was a dance;
the darkness and horror
but another cave to sit into
and to be joyful of.
the authors of these works
have a little say,
to say the last.
they meant not the harms ways.
I think not that anybody
believing in god, was saying
that all the others had to die,
but they did; nevertheless.