Last Words
15:44 Jun 30 2005
Times Read: 644
This is a poem i found in my old diary, I think I was 14 when i wrote this. That is the first time that i wanted to die...i think
My life is a peace of shit
So I`m leaving it as soon as i can,
The golden needle,a rope,or a bullet trough my head
It does not matter,it`s the same,I`ell be dead,
Now I will peacefully lie on the ground
And will wait for the final moment to come,
I really am glad to leave all this shit
When i think of it,there`s no fear, not even a bit,
My life is a peace of shit,
Before I go I want to tell You all
Do not ever grief over me,
`cos it`s not that bad, not as it could be,
I see my future deep in the ground
In a nice headstone,and the peace that will come
A slow-mo of my life is running trough my mind,
Feels like a lost battle,and You`re the one that`s left behind
My life is a peace of shit
`cos death is just a few breaths away
So my heart will soon stop it`s beat
And there will be no more agony for me...
My life was a peace of shit...
As you can see I didn't`t commit a suicide...or you all are talking to a ghost here...which could be interesting tough...Every time I wanted to end it I would think of one person that would be really hurt by that,and `cos of that person I change my mind...later I found it hard to find that one person, so i changed my policy, now when it comes to it i just think of one person who would be glad to see me dead...and i don`t do it `cos of that one person...
Hoanted Rose
14:14 Jun 10 2005
Times Read: 656
You have before You
a beautiful red rose,
Its passion will burn You
and take Your breath away.
But there is a story
beneath her green leaves,
There is a corpse
between those gentile roots.
Watered by tears,
by sorrow, by Pain,
fed on my flesh,
as it drained my remains.
Again there is a story
beneath those bones,
a river of love ran
through those dissolved veins.
You are dancing upon
my scattered bones,
And on my grief
You grew that pretty rose.
But cursed is the flower
that grows from a grave,
And the future of it
is the pain of which it became
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