The death of questions
It was a meaningless world.
Meanings were killed in the gas chamber.
I knew no longer how to speak, how to think, how to feel.
But there were small mercies:
The silence, the terrible silence,
Had no more questions.
It was a meaningless world.
Meanings were killed in the gas chamber.
I knew no longer how to speak, how to think, how to feel.
But there were small mercies:
The silence, the terrible silence,
Had no more questions.