Death is a kindness...

A ghost from my wandering soul, the darkness I invite,
A beating heart so cold, in life, what have I had to sacrifice,
A noose hanging from the ceiling, I can hear the sound of my demons,
The grim reaper is hovering, I can feel my angel spirit leaving.

The chair I stand upon,
Empty, with footprints on,
Dust, off the times I've stood,
Willing, for life to be gone.

If I'm already dead, I don't carry sadness,
If I don't want to live, death is a kindness,
Incarcerated in life, to breathe is a sin,
Take me to hell, rip me from limb to limb.

Eyes bloodshot from the tears I've cried,
I'm a broken angel with no means to fly,
Haunted features from the life I've lived,
Dead inside, from the beautiful souls I've killed.

The chair I stand upon,
Empty, with footprints on,
Dust, off the times I've stood,
Willing, for life to be gone,

Do I welcome the darkness?
Do I seek to feel the sadness?
If dying is a kindness, why am I still here?
Truth is...
If I'm dead,
I'm dead.
But my soul,
It will still wander in the bleak winter nights or within the red summer skies,
I just know,
To die,
Is to be kind...