Mercyful Death




Beaten, broken, scarred and battered-
The mirror before me has been shattered-
The shards of glass tore up my wrists-
And I'm bleeding from my fists.

Re-opened wounds again are bleeding-
Much more than last time now I'm needing-
But emptied bottles on the floor-
Show that my drugs are there no more.

I bash my head against the wall-
To feel anything at all-
Nobody cares, nobody's near-
Death is not a thing I fear.

A sharpened knife across my arm-
Hoping I can hurt and harm-
All of this seems so surreal-
I long far pain, it's all I feel.

Once again I bash my head-
All I see is stained in red-
I'm holding on by a thread so thin-
I take the knife and drive it in.

The knife sinks deep into my side-
Remembering the times I cried-
I twist it, tear it, stabbing deep-
This life I do not wish to keep.

Bleeding out upon the floor-
Very soon I'll live no more-
Within this pool of scarlet red-
Chaos quiets,  I am dead.