God, can’t the world just give it a rest,

I’m done giving it my best.

Give me a hammer to end my misery,

I’m done running from what waits for me.

 

Grant me this wish genie,

As I tip-toe silently.

To the door at the end of the road,

Where I can drop my heavy load.

 

It could be simple,

It could be easy.

But no…I’m just a flame to dwindle,

A sacrifice for the gods to appease.

 

Winter passes so slowly,

The feelings and emotions burning through me.

Create for me my Hell on Earth,

One designed ever since my birth.

 

I’m doomed, condemned to this existence,

One of complete and utter resistance.

But no matter how hard I fight it,

I just want to close my eyes and submit.

 

God’s toyed with my life like strings,

Plucking every guitar for the bitterest of rings.

Caring not for the care needed,

But only the greed that was seeded.

 

It grows silently and willfully,

Beautiful but dangerous.

No matter how time passes differently,

The Devil’s face seems ageless.

 

Gaunt and tall,

Fury and fall.

Winged angels,

Blazed ages.

 

They stand there,

Ready for war.

Tall and fair,

Evil and snare.

 

Carefully thought scars,

Placed evenly under my eyes.

Our past is all that we are,

One that a demon buys.

 

Shouldered my way through life,

Cut my way, hand and knife.

To become one with Amnesia,

Finally, my beautiful Anesthesia.

 

Tearing my soul into the jigsaw before you,

Other than those very lucky few.

My heart has turned bitter and cold like stars,

Oh so lonesome, and oh so vengeful in the dark.

 

Preying on the light,

Is all that seems right.

I’ve given up the fight,

For this blessed blight.

 

Trembling on the corner,

Asked if I’m just another mourner.

Crying for the fallen ones before me,

When it’s actually the ones after me.

 

I gather all the guts I have,

Cutting my cowardice in halves.

Maybe I’ll finally dig up that old shovel,

And honestly embrace that old dinghy hovel.

 

At the cemetery gates,

I blindly wait.

For the three fates,

And thunder late.

 

An empty space six feet down,

Far away, far away from town.

Do you hear it in the rain?

The washed away calls of pain?

 

I hear the eulogy now,

The cries of why and how.

Here I come to my peace,

Where the voices will cease.