Uada Somnia

Insomnia

thinking of death, i cannot sleep.

And not-sleeping i think of death.

And life fleeds right, it fled.

And every being doomed to not-be.

How unmighty sounds the scraggy 'To Battle!'

where it invites the will to live at its time.

Besides the death clarion shrill blast.

Wich evokes the old men with the boys.

As well as a woman that once gave herself

Has to birth even if she doesn't want to to birth.

Because the child is growing in her lap.

Is every creature pregnant of death.

And the destined goal of propagation

Is no more than the crib the grave.

J.C Bloem- insomnia