...Glory to this knife...
Glory to this knife,
For thou art my cure,
You are the ender of life,
Only lifeless I feel secure.
The metallic glow on my skin,
Emphasized by the old scars,
Why am I committing this sin?
Why is my life-lust so scarce?
I don’t deserve another dawn,
For I’m cruel, O fate,
I feel like society’s pawn,
There is nothing good that I can create.
My only friend here is this blade,
And it will feast upon my flesh,
Where is my faith?
I wish to cut my wrist with one final slash.
Death is not cruel,
It’s almost a thing of mirth,
I can end one’s own duel,
Because it’s an escape given at birth.
For life is not a thing everyone would choose,
It’s inherited by a human lust,
Many would love it to loose,
And for them their death is a must.
Glory to this knife,
For thou art my cure,
You are the ender of life,
Only lifeless I feel secure.