I just want it to end.

The hopelessness, the fear,
the constant critic in my head:
I've lived with them all for too long.

All I've ever known is this war, this endless battle.
There's nothing wrong with wanting it to end.
To wish that it didn't is cruel.

But why can't the best solution be the simplest?
Why do I have to keep fighting?

At times it's deafening,
and I'm so exhausted.

Why can't I just lay down in no man's land
and let this battle fall silent around me?

Why can't that be the end?

Because... I'll never know what's possible.

When I was a young child
I would sometimes stop from play

Lay down very still
And sense a mystery

Something very vast
And I was very near it

The feeling wouldn't last
I did not hear or fear it

What it was I do not know
I'm a Fool; I won't King Lear it

              Hey ** the wind and the rain.