Trudging through deep snow
frostbite up to my knees
every breathe is a countdown to the end.
I know there is still life here,
But I know also that death awaits.
In the last moments, I find balance
Within the unknowable nothingness
There is neither life nor death
Each step is closer to emptiness
I collapse into the snow
I will die here, this I know.
Finally, I can rest.
At the very end it is realized
My body selfishly tries to keep its warmth
While the earth just wants to welcome me back to the cold
By: Jerry Benjamin Stout
A poetic way to go -- but don't do it, dude. Thank goddess, the spring is coming!
ReplyDeleteLaced Your Shit is very scary, hopeless. Christianity won't help you but the more eastern stuff will. And tricking, but your own way.
Well written, though, as are some of the poems. Write your way out of the suicidal tendencies. Maybe move to a state near the ocean -- isn't tht the Gubernator in the bg.
Thanks for the comment, but I must say that I am not suicidal and I wrote that a long time ago for the poetic purpose only. And I also don't give a fuck about religion to be honest.
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