Suicide
Wet hair clings to his forehead, and his eyes are clenched shut.
He’s colder than he’s ever been before, but his hands remain still.
His soul is slowly slipping away, and he braces for oblivion.
The earth beneath him is soft, and the sky above him is black.
Lifeblood is staining the grass, but his calamity is almost complete.
His heart is barren, and his mind is blank.
They say you can’t take anything with you, and he finally knows what they mean.
The rain is refreshing, and his cheeks are pale.
He gasps his last wretched breath, and he prays there is no God.
Epitaph, my ebook:
http://www.amazon.com/Epitaph-ebook/dp/B00CCFQ9XS/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_t_2_TBDR
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