Suicide… the act of killing one self… the brave decision to end one’s life… the final destination… the fading light of hope and rise of desperation sun.
Why it is wrong?
And why they call it a crime?
(1) Passing over the bridge… watching the flowing grayish water… its internal waves indicate the silent anger from this world, and the thirst for human souls… whispers coming from deep inside the river… faintly calling my name… I exerted all the efforts to fight the urge of giving myself totally to this delicate element of life… to be swallowed by the huge mass of water… and never come up again… to see a new world, and listen to new songs… songs of life after Death
Will they call it suicide?
Why they don’t call it… hiding!!
(2) Looking at the shiny blade… its silvery surface shows only half of my face… why only half of my face? Why always that half… my eyes are engraved on the hungry blade… which crave for the taste of my blood… I try to look away … but my eyes are glued to its rising soul… it wants me… what if I cut my flesh… the white moony flesh… and watch the line of blood flow freely away from my poisoned body… drawing life wherever it goes… and spread my existence in the endless being
Will they call it suicide?
Why they don’t call it… painting my freedom!!
(3) It is more than just a building... it is the top of the world where I stand… … watching the real life beneath my feet…mortals walk endlessly in one path… they never look at the beautiful blue sky… they never thought of the wind kissing their perishing bodies… the clouds are drawing the lines of angels… they whisper my name… they are inviting me to join them… fight the urge to throw myself… feel the wind… listen to heaven songs… and breath.
Will they call it suicide?
Why they don’t call it… flying away!!
(4) White tiny pills… lay peacefully on the table… what’s their taste? sweet or sour… does it matter… life is sour… my name is written on each of them… they are mine… they belong to me… flow inside my body… merge with my blood… take me to the world of dreams… endless dream… endless joy.
Why they call it suicide
Why they don’t call it… Sleeeep!! Shhhhhh
(5) Why they call it suicide?
Why they call it death… End of Life?
Why they don’t call it another chapter in one’s journey!
Freedom from life burdens!
Merging with life elements!
My strange idea for today:
Death is not the end … it is just the beginning
