CYCLE

I awaken to red and blue lights The paramedics have arrived, Pain in my head like after those late nights I am thinking I should have died. I've brought on my doom with a self inflicted wound, the gun made such a boom. Brains spill like soup to be spooned. Half an inch hole in my head. White all around, is what I see. Hearing screams of he's not dead, The face of a woman is over me. Bumping shaking I'm on a bed. Ceiling lights flash all around, Were gonna lose him is being said, I've lost my feeling of the ground. Cold darkness is spreading One blindingly bright light It is always calling Give up the fight.