Death, where is your sting?
Has it been lost in thy suffering?
I in myself felt like I accepted you years ago,
But I pushed forward not knowing where it would go.
Now here I am at your door once again,
The empty swallowed pit of my soul.
Knowing and aching at your entrance,
I stand wishing to be free.
Free from the stresses and worries about tomorrow,
The ravenous worn torn heart holding and breaking.
It seems I'm done with it all, really,
A willing life for forsaking.