I feel like I'm grasping at straw...
Pretty soon, I'm gonna fall...
Fall to pieces on the floor....
No one will miss me, of this I'm sure...
The tormenter whispers...'grab a blade'....'cut and witness a crimson shade'...'a little deeper'... 'cut some more'...slowly bleeding till there's no more.......Torment whispers faint but clear...a soft suggestion in my ear....
'Do everyone a favor, take the knife...slice the vein...take your life'...
Happiness ceasing more often than not...Not sure what it is...perhaps I've forgotten...
So much of life living in dread....perhaps I would be better off dead....
The voices in my head are right...its time I give up this fight...a losing battle, to be sure....I can't find strength to fight anymore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem