Shadows lurk and spirits grow near,
The sound of their voice begins to appear,
But what exactly do I hear,
Other than my own internal fear.
Endless nights compelled with the cold,
Stories of these I was once told,
I can only assume that I lost my hold,
On my mortal life for which I sold.
As greed and anger filled my life,
So did the growing of my strife,
Fed up with all my internal rife,
I found my release in a knife.
Holding the steel in my fist,
I turned my hand with a twist,
The devil inside me only hissed,
As I slid the blade across my wrist.
Not once did I have any remorse,
Of my actions and followed force,
Watching the blood flow from its source,
My life at the end of its set forth course.
I never thought it would become this bad,
That I’d become this person who was only sad,
Though in my final moments I was glad,
I’d finally be back with Mom and Dad.