Bury me, let me stand. This is a rather depressing poem. In the poem, the poet describes the difficulty of life and the value of dignity. He is depressed, but there is no way out; the only way to vent his resistance is through death!

I'm selling my life, who wants to buy it?

I am tired of dreams, family and time. I have become the sun but it is a sun that does not shine. I have become the dawn but it is the dawn hidden behind the night. If I stand up, I know that I will be killed again like before. I am the one who was killed.

Children who cut out their tongues because they couldn't bear his cry "Don't kill your dreams, don't"

The blood is flowing, I can no longer say these advices. I only know that this is my punishment, but I don’t know what I am punishing. Every day I look out the window and watch the corpses of the victims filling this place, watching their blood fill the air,

Converged into a river, even filling this space. Don't cry for me. I don't hate life. I just prefer death. But I hate time. He has learned to bury us in our bodies. Tell me, why do we build tombs?

Bury the dead or to bury the living? Is there really a beautiful place called heaven after death? I just became your dying days. Before you kill me, can I ask for one thing? Help me dig a deep hole to make a grave and bury it.
Chapter completed!