The Suicide Dream

The Suicide Dream

October 29, 2011

There's blood on the floor,

A cold hand still leaning on the closed door,

The echo of a painful shout still overcome,

Imprinted in the empty sight,

The image of a purpose that was too soon gone.

Tangled bloody hair,

Of a person that decided no more can bear,

Tears like crystals still resting on the dead face,

The soundtrack of a film,

The scream of lost innocence,

On a black and white screen.

Suppressed words that cleaved a heart,

Broken promises and lies,

One more soul tore apart,

A person drown in useless cries,

Bloody, bruised wrist,

The result of the decision - no more can go on like this.

A peaceful grin,

Of a person that in the ocean of despair couldn't anymore swim,

Is frozen and distorted,

A blade, a stain of blood,

Life away has faded.

Like in a dream,

I see the bruised, dead face,

I hear a scream,

On the floor I see a bloody trace,

Snippets of a jumble film.

Another person broke down,

Took away by the whirling waves of the suicide dream,

Another person decided this world is maybe too grim,

Another lost soul, a wasted life,

Ended by the corrupter blade of a knife...