I’d give away all wealth
If you’d be so kind to trade Death
For this life is not worth the breath

O sweet release for me to come
Rid my soul of the foul boredom

The sight of a grave far away
Down next to it I yearn to lay

O Lord have mercy on a free soul
Rendered its years to another’s yore

ألا موتٌ يُباع فأشتريه — الوزير المهلبي

Such there is Night، not Night as ours—Unhappy Folk
J.R.R. Tolkien.

The Unhappy Folk: unhappyfolk.org
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Mail: msg@unhappyfolk.org