My hands ache when they grip the precipice
A cliff I cannot cling to anymore
Implores me to flee that unpleasantness
Of living the fight, the internal war.
If I let go, I can dodge life’s grenades
If I stay, pain will overpower me
A kind of pain that begs  for slender blades
So I must choose the path that sets me free.
Shed a light into my bottomless depths
Of dark demons that stab beyond measure
Spirits that tangle with my shortening breaths
They scare away any remaining pleasure
The suffering is pointless, so **** it
What will it be, the blade or the bullet?