Suicide maybe a painful deed,
travelling along a road of torture.
To heaven amongst the fields so gold-
or hell: a dream that depression leaves.
An expression of beauty- laid before the darkest dreams.
Beloved cease to amaze the lived
but open eyes and honest spirits- where the dead,
serene,belong in the hands of the gods.
Alas, a journey free begins,
where souls, liberated, are able to release emotions deep,
so cry my lass, at last the truth can be spoken,
amongst thy friends who sleep in peace.
And peace, a dream that is found so rare
becomes a symbol of everlasting sleep, a feeling that lies in the hands of the dead,
who once were hurt and at […]