Death is the end of life,
End of an individual’s time.
Death is a mystery,
Nobody knows what happens after it.
But it is something I look forward to,
It’s something that I try to accomplish,
But fail.
Life is too great for me to live by,
Life is light and Death is dark.
During the day, I hide from the sun.
During the night, I emerge from my hide out
And admire the dark and shallow.
When I tire, I dream of darkness.
I dream of suffocation, torture, and suicide.
Many say that I am possessed by Satan himself.
Others say I’m the helper or his fallen angel.
But I say that it’s life.
And I plan to end it.
Living is for people who need lives.
Death is for those who already lived out their lives and goals,
And succeeded.
I am one of the people who have gone to the dark side
And never fled.
No one can say me.
No one can cure my disease.
No one knows what makes me like this.
But to be in honest truth,
I just don’t want to live.
My time will come,
But I don’t want to wait.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem with cruel death