The joyful voices of the seraphs ring in my ears.
They bring to me happiness.
They calm my ravaged soul.

Alas, that, like everything is only temporal.
The raven clouds descend on my heart.
As the harvesters of sorrow swarm upon me,
My soul gives a shriek of pain.
Like a keening banshee,
My cries ring through the still of the night.

I give up on life.
Death is but inevitable.
I am but flesh.
Embrace life with zest?
The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

Death is like getting a hug from the grim reaper.
Why fight what you can’t prevent.
Rather, you should look forward to it.

As my body is broken,
Pain wracks my body furiously.
Blood flows like a crimson fountain.
The blade falls from my hand.
I drift out of consciousness,
Just like I have drifted out of the memories of everyone else.
Drifting into oblivion isn’t that bad after all.

My vision blurs.
The cold toilet floor is the only thing I feel.
Everything feels cold.
My vision fades to black.
My butterfly mind wanders to the times we shared.
As I heave my last breath,
A solitary tear rolls down my cheek.
As lonely as I am.
The times we shared play back endlessly in my mind like a broken tape.
It doesn’t matter though.
Its too late.
it doesn't matter.
Nothing does.