I’m dreaming about how it’s gonna end..
Lying on the sofa,
Feeling crazy, feeling beaten, broken.
I’m thinking I’m suicidal
Idle, Lying here, idling the time away.
Dreaming of the final day and the ultimate escape.
I want a peaceful way, a gentle way, drifting into eternal sleep..
Sleep that knits the ravelled sleeve of care..
Sleep that takes me beyond the need of care.
Yes, thinking of suicide,’ suic’ idol..
Have I made an idol out of Death?
Has Death deceived me by displacing Life?
Eternal Life that I received when I was young?
Life that promised so much..
Life that I’ve trampled upon and sullied..
And think of casting away with unwarranted, self-indulgent fervour?
Death is tears on a staring cheek,
Glazed oversight of weakness ..
Thoughts of past returnings that lay buried without comfort.
Memories lay heavy and wear with strain..
All passing thoughts within a seething brain..