I'm resting beneath an avalanche
With my numb soul burying the cold secrets
The chasms taking in my pain
I'm a poet
I don't wish to be one
I'm resting beneath the avalanche
And my cacology is killing me
These words reaching out to the mountains
Are merely fairytales in this stark reality
I'm resting beneath an avalanche
And I can see the cygnet
With her mother
Moving towards death
And my words cannot help them
My words cannot help my withering self too.