Today I sleepA slumber so deep,I might not wake up tomorrow,While the world I keepWouldn’t care to peepInto the foreboding of my sorrow. Might I lie,If fine am I,It is the knell that peals yonder,That brings nighA will to dieTo end my ceaseless wander. Some
I am on a boat with no oars, at the mercy of the flow. It is a surefire fall ahead as a steep and deadly fall awaits my death. I know my fate and have come to accept it. Death has never scared me anyway.
What’s wrong if I spill myself out? I die tomorrow, don’t you know? Maybe you have all the time in the world, Maybe I am running out, And you have no idea how, But each passing breath is a goodbye From this cold world. And
Woke up one day To find me dead; It didn’t make a difference. I climbed out my bed, And walked a mile To find no one, But were they ever there? Not a soul lurked, Not a car stirred, The traffic of dopey minds Was
I feel your searing eyes Piercing me, Making me Shift in my edgy seat, Twitch in this ugly heat, What are you thinking Behind that crazy skull? I ain’t that dull, I am trying to keep up With your brutal signs, You are defying Me
Why draw a sword, When you know That it only kills? Nothing good has ever come From a needle that only knows how to cut, And how to taste blood. You are calling out destruction When you know How to use a weapon; Its knowledge
Sea to the left, See to my right To find another hopeless sight, Down below death drowns, I might not ever make it out, And yet I try to find my wade, Clueless about a certain fate, Must be a land somewhere That my purblind
I read pain on faces I had never seen weep; Could they cry too? Now I know – Joy isn’t anyone’s prerogative. You wish it were eternal, It never is. No matter how taut it is held, It always manages to slip through. Emotions are
Walls are closing in, Everyday I am here I smother myself a little, Yet I shoehorn myself in Into the world’s most hated place; When you are not in love, Everything turns into distaste. Aren’t we checking into a stockade Of chasm to find our
I am walking.I think I am;The road walks the other way.A tiny kiosk sells death in all sizesWhile people flock in huge numbers to die;They ask for their favorite cigarette flavors.A girl preens her hair trying to findWhat she doesn’t look like in a vehicle’s