Deep, dark, and cruel is my night,
fraught with horrors and psychosis.
Fear plagues my trembling soul,
terrible disillusionment clouds my heart.
Disharmony overtakes my life.
The eerie, dispassionate voices of Hell
soothingly call out to me urging me
to take the razor blade, and swiftly
put an end to it all.
The voices chant softly within
my addled brain: Don't fear the afterlife.
For all shall be well for you there.
So, quietly, quickly I pick up the shiny blade,
and with one swift stroke begin to bleed profusely
from my trembling wrist.
With a faltering breath Islowly fade into
the dark ethereal mists of the afterlife.
Donavon Scott Vinson