Apr 2014
My mind often drifts,
To the appealing mystery of Death.
What we see as the End,
Attracts my mind but raises questions.
What happens when you die?
Will anyone care when I die?
Will I feel different when I die?
Is Death the better choice for me?
When I run a finger down my wrist,
I can see blood flow through the place,
Where the soft skin and tissue,
Has been ruptured by the knife.
I can rub the blade lightly on my throat,
And imagine what it feels like,
To let the steel dig into my flesh,
And see the red for an instant.
When I ****** the 7.62 round against the temple,
I can feel the bullet tear through everything,
Cross from one side through to the other,
Destroying the beauty I've been given but waste.
And all those images attract me.
My morality says it's wrong,
But my philosophy asks why not.
It's just not an easy choice to make.
What if it's not what I imagine?
My atheist past tells me it will,
That everything just ends,
And that nothing will hurt.
But my current faith is not so sure,
For it teaches The Lord forgives all,
But as well that taking ones's own life,
Is almost the gravest of sins that lead to Hell.
I'd prefer the empty and black End,
Where there isn't fear of pain.
But I believe the loving, forgiving Lord,
Who can condemn me to suffering.
I feel in my heart both sorrow and love.
It's a conflict between the good and bad.
A depression dwells in me,
The chemical imbalance that I cannot change,
Which reminds me I'm alone,
Because the one I love is leaving.
But the love in my heart,
It shows me the happy future,
The dreams I can reach if I pray to Him,
That she may recover and come home.
It's for her that I live,
She's the one I love.
As long as she lives in this world I must remain,
Despite the sadness that I cannot relieve her pain.
But when she leaves along with my cause,
I think it's the time that the curtain draws.
I've felt the purest and truest of all loves,
And she has brought me happiness.
But I've also smelt the fumes of the fluid,
The chemicals that bring an ultimate bliss.
Many tries, all the while, I have been alone.
But the truth tells me no, I should not condone.
My habit is to think,
That no one will care,
But to not cause her pain,
I must avoid the tendency.
To the appealing mystery of Death.
What we see as the End,
Attracts my mind but raises questions.
What happens when you die?
Will anyone care when I die?
Will I feel different when I die?
Is Death the better choice for me?
When I run a finger down my wrist,
I can see blood flow through the place,
Where the soft skin and tissue,
Has been ruptured by the knife.
I can rub the blade lightly on my throat,
And imagine what it feels like,
To let the steel dig into my flesh,
And see the red for an instant.
When I ****** the 7.62 round against the temple,
I can feel the bullet tear through everything,
Cross from one side through to the other,
Destroying the beauty I've been given but waste.
And all those images attract me.
My morality says it's wrong,
But my philosophy asks why not.
It's just not an easy choice to make.
What if it's not what I imagine?
My atheist past tells me it will,
That everything just ends,
And that nothing will hurt.
But my current faith is not so sure,
For it teaches The Lord forgives all,
But as well that taking ones's own life,
Is almost the gravest of sins that lead to Hell.
I'd prefer the empty and black End,
Where there isn't fear of pain.
But I believe the loving, forgiving Lord,
Who can condemn me to suffering.
I feel in my heart both sorrow and love.
It's a conflict between the good and bad.
A depression dwells in me,
The chemical imbalance that I cannot change,
Which reminds me I'm alone,
Because the one I love is leaving.
But the love in my heart,
It shows me the happy future,
The dreams I can reach if I pray to Him,
That she may recover and come home.
It's for her that I live,
She's the one I love.
As long as she lives in this world I must remain,
Despite the sadness that I cannot relieve her pain.
But when she leaves along with my cause,
I think it's the time that the curtain draws.
I've felt the purest and truest of all loves,
And she has brought me happiness.
But I've also smelt the fumes of the fluid,
The chemicals that bring an ultimate bliss.
Many tries, all the while, I have been alone.
But the truth tells me no, I should not condone.
My habit is to think,
That no one will care,
But to not cause her pain,
I must avoid the tendency.
Originally this was just gonna be a set of 2 and 4 line stanzas, with form and a bit repetition being the only devices tying it together. But towards the end I was able to throw in a few awkward rhymes. So it sounds kinda weird. But I'll just leave it that way, because the original is always better than the revision. Otherwise, I may change my thoughts and then it's not even the same work.
