My Light

As he cocks the gun, no one hears the click throughout
    the dark deserted house
Kneeling down on his knees, head bowed as if in prayer
He finds comfort in the bright sun rays
    shining through as little spots onto the floor
Each of these spots is somewhere in his life
    where he went wrong, he thought
Watching the particles of dust slowly settle to the floor
    he stood up and walked to the window

Why is it, he thought, why is it that people live so much
    just to die
Why is it that you can be the most famous person in the world
    and after your death, the world doesn't stop a second to notice your
    departure
Why is it that even though I haven't gone through anything traumatic
    I suffer so greatly
Maybe, the way to a happy life is knowing
    we all are living just to get to one certain place,
Death, death is the light at the end of the tunnel
    the journey we take to get there may be different, but the end result is all   
    the same

Nonchalantly glancing down at the gun in is hand,
    he smiles a wicked grin that spreads across his face
Gently shifting the gun from hand to hand
    he watches as the movement creates light in the dark room
This is his light, he thinks, his way to fight with his dark side
    gaining the edge as he fingers the trigger