Does it not Make sense,
To want to end
Your own life?
To comence the deed
That for you,
MUST be done
To undo the life
That was so carelessly
Bestowed upon you
Does it NOT MAKE SENSE
That all these 'Little things'
Are causing my miseries
That they have written my ending?
That these DRAMA'S
Have destroyed the beginning
Before it has begun!
The Bell! The bell!
The bell has been rung.
And down they slide
A poison a knife
More tears for sacrifice
Help! Help!
The Heart is gone!
Anguish has taken,
The lights been forsaken
The song...the song!
The song has been sung.
No going back.
To smiles and cheers.
All that is left...
Is pain and tears.
Because the DEAD cannot DIE
Without leaving behind
More hurt to be sold.
Leaving love to cry Why
And letting it shrivel away
Inside.
The bell...the bell
Yes the bell hath been rung.
A beginning Destroyed
Long before it begun
This is no prayer,
For the lovers and weeper
Or the pleaders and mourners.
This is no prayer at all.
For death and the Dying ,
Now in their coffins they lay
Have made their beds,
So you see
This is a poem for the dead.