The strange, sick, yet comforting feelings thoughts of suicide can bring, and its pain. |
Black Hope Dark Tendrils reach, caressing and corrupting, noble, but ignoble, Seductive, Lethal. What is wrong is right, some would deny, but others welcome, a bittersweet embrace, leading blindly into the unknown. To live or to die? By asking, is a soul's fate sealed? Black thoughts entrench in the mind, vanguards of an unwelcome desire, a repulsive reflex which stains the hopes of day with promises of night. Fear meets resolve, and worth is weighted. Life is valued, like a butcher to his sow Self made merchants, dealing in death. The soul, at war between two certanties: Never to lose love's light, yet never to thrive in the dark Conflict! Despair! How can one abandon the very sweey sustenance, Oh, sweet sustenance! Which bonds one's heart to live? Prophetic fears fly out of a trembling mouth, yet deadly movements are stilled, and days pass under clouded skies, onward and onward.... anxious eternity. Sullen paths lie ahead and still the traveler must tread, Guided, Controlled, Consumed, Doomed, by Black Hope |