This is my message to the world
who would not listen to my pleas;
this is the last surrender of the will,
before the drowning in the seas.
I cannot think of any else,
for pain drowns thought, and wracks the mind,
the trembling would not stop nor pause,
I wish the final sleep that binds.
I wish for silence, and for peace,
for I’ve been broken past recall.
i look before me, but the path –
there is no path i see at all!
I stand with cut and bleeding feet,
i cannot take another stride;
i did not wish these wounds that bleed,
But here they are, and they abide.
I wish for time to heal this soul
that now i fear might heal no more,
and so i turn back from the world
that did the deed, from skin to core.
There are no rhymes to write again,
the poet’s gone and run away;
there are no songs, and no more lays,
the minstrel’s left and would not stay.
I drag these fingers and this pen,
one last preamble must be left
to tell the tale of this lost soul:
pathetic fool, scarred and bereft.
There is a point of no return
beyond which none may be reclaimed;
today i’ve reached that place, and yet
i hesitate, and lay no claim.
I stare across this dark abyss,
one fall to end a lifetime’s pain;
i wait redemption, but that is
a fruitless wait and with no gain.
I’ve cried enough, i’ve tears no more,
no voice, no strength, no courage here.
i take one look back, and with a sigh,
i plunge fore’er, and disappear.
–undated, probably around 2006, when i was in the pit of despair.