How many days I still have left
before the silent bells loudly ring.
From all last hopes I am bereft
I hear the angels already sing.
How many nights will I spend
before the sun melts in my hand.
To common sense I will not bend,
For liberty I’ll make my stand.
How many words I still will say
behind the clouds and weeping rain.
All these thoughts will go away
leaving everything in vain.
How many breaths will I take
before it all will abruptly end.
Will I die or will I awake,
who can tell, who apprehend.
And all this has come to pass
All days, nights, words and breaths.
Too few shadows I have cast
to meet so many senseless deaths.
Homo est Machina 
Beautiful. ~ What becomes of my allotment of air?
Astounded….
This is my favourite poem of yours to day, very moving, beautiful.