Kill me dear friends For in death I will find life. Survival means death And my life is to die of love. ...For me, the effacement of self Is the most noble of gifts I could have Whilst staying as I am Is the worst of all faults. My soul has grown weary of life Amongst these fleeting superficial phenomena. So kill me, and burn me With my bones that will perish Then take my remains and go near The abandoned tombs. There in the hidden remains of souls still alive You’ll find my beloved’s secret.