"I'm tired,"* I said,
I tried to walk,
but I stumbled on my foot,
I stand and tried to run away,
"faster, faster," I command my legs;
but no, not an inch did I move.
once again I fell,
"Please," I begged, "it's coming after me."

I drift into sleep.
darkness: swallowing me.
I tried to fight the unconsciousness.
then,

I opened my eyes,
I see the light:
my escape,
my final destination.
I tried to focus,
but slowly, it is closing slowly.

half crawled, half walked,
I made it to the light.
I entered.
my eyes are blinded,
by the reflection of the light,
in so many shards of blade and glass.

I cried,
"At last,"
I just have to find it.
I closed my eyes,
I felt it.
sitting dead in the center.
waiting for me:
the answer.

I fingered it,
I am pricked.
the sight of blood made me jump,
I picked it up,
and utter the last of my words,
"Alas, my sweet the end!"

with all my strength I pushed it.
tears streaming;
blood dripping;
knees fell on the floor;
blade made it's way to the bone.

body and blade in contact,
both cold now and lifeless.
my body and my blade,
have already served their purpose.