Freedom

I see the knife Lying Silently on the table I hear my breath The only sound In the dark room I see the candlelight Flickering shadows Shadows of myself The myself who dosen't really exist On the wall, on the floor Everywhere I see stains of crimson At my feet, on the table Stains on the knife Stains in my heart That will soon be gone Forever I see myself That mirror on the wall The image of life Standing before me The only remains Of a life I pick up the knife I hold it high It shines in the candlelight Shining of red Of death For the last time I blow out the candle Grey smoke rises Soon even that will be gone The last drop of wax falls to the floor As the room falls into Darkness I still see crimson Just make it out From the moonlight I lower the blinds Complete darkness Engulfs the room I smash the mirror Glass flies across the foom Cuts my arm More crimson I won't need it Anymore I see myself On the window Last time I pick up the knife I take a swipe Sudden pain Piercing pain I see no more Gasping to think Think no more I have my freedom At last. Written December 11th, 2001 © on Dec 11 2001 03:32 PM PST   0 • 1