A forced laugh and a masking smile,
Thoughts of death all the while
Running circles in my head,
Lying motionless in my bed;
Through my window I now look,
My life's before you; an open book;
Under covers I try to hide,
The world passes by in a careless stride;
The light within has dwindled hence,
Came forth a wall from a wooden fence;
On my knees in hopeless prayer,
I grip the blade but do not dare;
Cold and lifeless, as I long to be,
But each time I turn and flee;
No different is this time,
I drop the knife with midnight's chime;
Bathed in darkness I begin to rise,
No longer tears streaming from my eyes;
The battle's won, but not the war,
A chilling thought right to the core;
Knife once more in hand,
I trip, stumble, and land;
Greeted with a piercing pain,
All I hear is falling rain,
And from the angels' crimson tears,
A warmth washes over me and quells my fears;
And again do my eyes close,
As I lose feeling in my toes,
But afriad I am not,
God's reserved me a special spot;
And in my final dying word,
One which none have even heard,
I ask forgiveness for my sin,
And protection for my kin.