I love to flirt and dance with suicide
Counting death, as if I’ve already died
It’s a fantasy date with destiny
The thrill of that last and final ride….
I’ve gone over the edge… I think
Into a melancholy void I sink
Where flights of imagination take over
Memories and projections, with no apparent link …
Do I long for the end? Sure…
But allas, there is no cure …
Death being but a transitional doorway
Into another state, not necessarily pure…
I cannot shed this sadness
Nor it’s selfendulgent madness
Its all adding up to imbecility
And an attitude of crassness!
Ah! More time spent in morbid revery
Emotional Back-sliding and mental mortality
But never you mind!
The worst catalyst is any sympathy ….