How do I explain the baptizing purge of death at the three in the morning?
When the pain is too much for one soul to bare,
to witness another day dawning.
How tranquil and still the earth seems to be awash in the moons silver light.
How normal and sane the sense it does make
to cease life and no longer fight.

It feels so alive to decide not to live and continue in daily expectancy.
To hear yourself say
‘No, I am not okay’
and admit to yourself your despondency.

Everything then becomes so distinct, the turbulent pain becomes clear.
All falls into place the solution is met, the air becomes vacant of fear.
Alone with the toy that would well achieve the task when presented again,
when all hope has gone and answers run dry to prevent what I know is humane.

My toy will go deep when plunged to the hilt
crack’d through this exterior shell,
I’ll empty my soul through the window I make
and set my heart free from this hell.