When death is not an option anymore
My kin's hearts
I could not have forsook.
My life has more value to it now
Than I wished it was worth
I'm not allowed to die.
I feel nothing left
And it's relentlessly cold inside
But my noose stopped short
Just a hair, and nothing less
Life amounts to nothing in the end
But He still beckons me to try my best
I really am so tired though
Dancing what remains, on the edge,
Teasing the rope upon my tip toes
Is there anybody out there
Who understands these woes?
Do words ever really make it out?
Through this forest, are there ears to hear?
I can't afford to even shout, you see
Each lyric made is my saving grace
To keep me lasting day by day
And each night, like at this time
That's when the real screams come again
Out from underneath the hopeful facade
Into the night's dark sub-conscience mind
Everyone can move on without me
I failed this life
And not even my words now can save me.
I am the palewriter
I am my own worst enemy.
My will to live is matched only
By my yearning to be the death of me.
How close must words be analysed
To understand a person calling out:
"Help me."
©palewriter
P