Thoughts of an ending life

To conspire is the deadliest pastime

with poison that flows like rivers

am I not what they say to be

if I cannot see into my own?

too many, too weak, too brutal

is that what to live is

hold the coil of woven thread

death is life-- life is nothing

snuffed out, but still breathing

to be eternal is a curse

but to die is a curse still

and to drag on and on and on

this will lead to nothing, you are but nothing

but cosmic dust and hopes

dust will scatter and dreams may fall

how honest this is

to be nothing