Suicide Paradise Poem by Odey Patrick

Here, where the humming fan is still
and the firmament bulbs dimmed
flies shall over my limp form buzz-
a befitting funeral with no cost.

None shall find me
till my Life's glass empty seeps,
hung, feet above the ground,
once the noose has come around.

This deed I hurry to do quick
no fear nor cowardly rethink
and though I may rue this in Hell
truth is, I really do not care!

For what is hell to One like me
whom pleasures never knew,
to all end whom Life saw fit
to knuckle black and blue?

And though fiends govern in Hell
and the flames quench not in there
The pains, surely, must help,
Earth's miseries to forget!

So come round, O dear Noose
taut but firm in your silent woos,
about this neck duely stay
and my struggles do restrain.

When I'm found in my circular dangle
judge not from your spooked angle
nor look up with dutiful pity-
a most hypocritical piety.

Know, Life, not death, be the burden
this Soul was with laden
and though Heaven be far my luck
I left with a true man's gut!