They call it their own

And do as they please

And in a weak moment

Seek, in death, release.

Release from disillusion,

Anguish and pain,

Or just to make a point,

That’s foolish, in vain.

Some seek an emptiness

Of emotions devoid,

And wish for the limbo

Of conflict less void.

But DEATH – it’s the end,

A complete extinction,

Of life, time and soul

With no resurrection.

Though life may seem a burden,

We must recall this bit-

“It’s not the load that bears us down,

It’s the way we carry it.”

So when the going is unbearable,

And you seek self destruction;

Remember, this life you call your own,

-You had no hand in it’s creation.

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