Death I can tell you have always wonder what it would feel like to die.
Would it be painless, will you remember the ones you loved, or will you see how they talked about you when you were not around?
Will they even notice your gone or will they be over it in a day only talking about you to have others feel bad?
Will the people who hated you the most talk bad about you like always or will they pretend that you were their best friend?

Your hands around my waist,
heart synchronised to mine
          Captivated

Your fingers run through my hair,
radiating sunbeams of smiles
           Rapturous

You watch sunbeams dance in my curls,
body still as a winter's day
          Enthralled

You stare straight into my eyes,
your soul connects - to mine
          Serene

I turn my callous back, then
turn my face to you
          Nothing

I once heard that suicide was painless,
especially if you use the steel that is stainless.
But when you go, you're bound to die nameless,
and everyone is helpless but no one is blameless.

I once heard you could determine your life with a game of MASH,
from who you would marry and if they'd have cash.
The future was written out but the ink gave me a rash,
and the destination was plotted to come to a crash.

Now through early morning fog I see,
every regret and every memory,
grasping a hopeful visionary,
that in this life we can be free.

I once heard that suicide was painless,
and with tragedy you can become famous,
but the outcome is always quite heinous,
and we all have pride but the release is shameless.

Now through early morning fog I see,
the line between truth and reality,
and with every wish and every plea,
I beg the world to just let it be.

Yes suicide is painless,
it's a route of living chainless,
but it only leaves destruction in it's wake.
Yes suicide is painless,
it's skies are always rainless,
but the rays of sunshine are extremely fake.

Yes suicide is painless,
It's outcome is very gainless,
the only thing that's gifted is heartbreak.

As I tread this path with prickles & thorns,
With fluttering butterflies in my gut,
With blurry visions of vague horizons,
Failed to notice, I was stuck in a rut.

I reached a small pond that mirrored my face,
I see roses, patches of red petals.
I was enamored with it as I trace,
The roses that formed a maze to my pulse.

It was blood, I was dying painlessly.
These thorns were shrapnel from a hand grenade,
The feeling of butterflies was numbness,
My blurred vision was from a ruptured vein,
I fell flat, dying, laying on the grass,
Please, my love, end me with a coup de grâce.

Death is never painless nor serene for every soul.
Someone will always fall short in the game of the dead.
Either the man taking the last breath or a man who has many left.

We never know anything other than the certainty; what is dead will forever remain.

I am a trained assassin
One you can't see
I bring forth happiness
So you can feel pain free

I am a trained assassin
One you shouldn't fear
I slay the monsters in the night
So you won't shed a tear

I am a trained assassin
One you know well
I love you dear, oh so much
It's for you, my heart swells