Amidst the unsettling crowd of animals,
I still feel alone, even if you're sitting by me.
There is no cure for my loneliness.

The feeling is similar to what great poets must've felt—
that forced them to ascend from this land,
by escaping through a beautiful route called death.

It is a path with many pitfalls,
but I feel at home, drifting off into the emptiness.

It doesn't feel unlike the feeling of loss—
it comes with a sense of finality
that I have experienced before,
in some vague memory of the past.

Now, I'm floating offshore,
taking my final breath.