Beckettian Wastes

I'm a dead man in a dead men land
The breath seems to be a whisper
But too far away
For me to care

I'm a dead man in a dead men land
And now the screaming and mourning
And crying and pretending are behind me but
I can't help feeling sad

But not sad like someone who wills to cry

Sad because it's not happiness nor peace

Sad because it would be impossible to pretend to laugh

Sad because it's not even sadness.

Sad because I am the corpse
Who stands.

Author's Note

Since English is not my first language I accept critics about grammar, vocabulary, etc.