~Dark stair of suicide~
I've never been of the morbid persuasion,
Though I find myself, now and then, on occasion
Slipping towards the dark and gloom.
But in the depths of sleepless night
I often wonder if I might
Be better off to leave it all behind.
Sometimes I've near made up my mind
And as the night begins to wind
To a close, I catch myself
Planning the place, and the date, and the time
As the dark stair of suicide I slowly climb
And everything's ready to go but the how.
Is it better to drown in the lake of my sorrow?
Faster to throw myself into the pit of my woe?
Let my guilt go with the blood from my veins.
I teeter on the edge of that great, dark chasm
And think of talking to friends, but sleep has them,
And always, so far, I flinch away.
When the day finds me alive, but still shaken,
I marvel at all of the steps I have taken
And shake myself, and start my day.
But as it progresses I sink deep in the muck
Maybe I am morbid, or just have bad luck
But whyever it happens, the cycle begins.
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