Suicide Spell

It is a real kind of pain-- this knife to my chest
I feel myself heaving, heart beating, distressed

It is a real kind of torment-- these thoughts through my mind
Of my friend, Journey’s End, death stocking behind

Don’t retreat, oh lover of life,
Don’t return to your darkening cell.
Help me to drop the blade of this knife
As I’m stuck in this suicide spell

It is a real kind of lonely-- being alone with an edge
Vows cannot be broken, I must stick to my pledge

I must understand what I know to be true
The sky’s always gray and my thoughts always blue

And this world, which is full to the brim of man’s greed
Will mourn not at all when this knife makes me bleed

I don’t want to live if I can’t see the sky, and so I’ll diminish all life that I had
And the rain that keeps falling is not half as bad
When compared to the pain and the tears I have cried
And so I’ll succumb to this small suicide