nope, not my photograph…
Translated…
The Entire Summer Got Cremated
By the Snow that Fell, for a Thousand Year on End
As You’d Passed Through the Airport Checkpoints
Your Chest Started Beeping Endlessly
With Chance of an Explosion at Any Given Minute
You Were, Restricted from Boarding the Airplanes
Your Heated Body Slowly
Became, Baked, into a Clay Figurine
You’d Armed Yourself, Dodged the First Emperor of China for Many Years
Just Being Discovered, You Were, Shipped Off, to an Exhibition, at a Museum
You’d Looked Around Lost
And, All of Your Fellow Service Mates Had Gone into Their Separate Reincarnation Cycles
Fighting to Take a Photograph with You
The Only Remain that You Own Was, a Red Piece of Clothing
Placed, on Display, in a Glass Coffin
The Lonely Cloth Burial
Had, Buried You, in Blood
And that, is ALL the remained, after the person D-I-E-S, some materialistic belongings that were associated with the person who’d died, and that, is a life, lived in vain. I mean, wouldn’t YOU want someone to remember you in some other ways, rather than just, burying your clothes???