it’s true this world our breathing laboured
inspires nothing more than obvious disgust
a desire to flee without our share
and no longer read the headlines

we long to return to our ancestral home
where our forebears once lived under an angel’s wing
we long to find that strange morality
which sanctified life to the end

we crave something like loyalty
like the embrace of mild addictions
something that transcends yet contains life
we cannot live far from eternity

Autore: Michel Houellebecq