I tried to kill the pain
But it only brought more.
In the end, does it even matter?

My wounds cry for the grave
My soul cries for deliverance
But I only feel cold steel.
We were born to die, weren't we?

I spin the cylinder and wonder,
Will you be on the other side?
Or will you forget me?

Either way its time to bleed it out
And cross this divide.
I place the barrel against my temple
And take my last breath.

I feel a cold rush of blood to my head
As I pull the .....





Fabulo-la

Sent from my CrackBerry® device.

Comments (7)

On September 27, 2012 at 5:21 AM , 'Lara said...

This is beautiful and sad at the same time.

 
On September 28, 2012 at 11:15 PM , LohiO said...

Beautiful.

 
On October 2, 2012 at 3:53 AM , SHE said...

Pull the curtains?
Pull the trigger?

 
On October 25, 2012 at 12:19 PM , aeedeeaee said...

Blinds, perhaps?



Sublime...

 
On October 28, 2012 at 4:46 PM , dayor said...

Bitter sweet

 
On November 7, 2012 at 11:25 AM , Nutty J. said...

Please don't pull the trigger

 
On May 19, 2013 at 8:40 AM , mancee said...

We must die to self
To find ourselves
Yet in neglecting self
We may cease living
And tis unity with self
Which equates living
Life and living seem often a joke
Game of chance like the spinning cylinder. ..

-Mancee