Kill me dear friends

For in death I will find life. Survival means death

And my life is to die of love.

For me, the effacement of self

Is the most noble of gifts I could have Whilst staying as I am

Is the worst of all faults.

My soul has grown weary of life

Amongst these fleeting superficial phenomena. So kill me, and burn me

With my bones that will perish

Then take my remains and go near

The abandoned tombs.

There in the hidden remains of souls still alive You’ll find my beloved’s secret.