There once was a boy,
Lonely and stripped of all joy.
He burnt his skin,
As his soul withered within.
As the days passed,
He coveted for the days that'd be his last.
And all his acquaintances shrugged,
But it was his grave they dug.
All those nights alone in a room,
On parchment pieces he sculpted his doom.
And with prowess he slipped into the unknown,
Into the hell where youth and laughter go.
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 8:15 AM UTC
There once was a boy,
Lonely and stripped of all joy.
He burnt his skin,
As his soul withered within.
As the days passed,
He coveted for the days that'd be his last.
And all his acquaintances shrugged,
But it was his grave they dug.
All those nights alone in a room,
On parchment pieces he sculpted his doom.
And with prowess he slipped into the unknown,
Into the hell where youth and laughter go.
I wrote this as a modernised homage to 'Suicide in the Trenches' by Siegfried Sassoon
