My Torment - Poem by Mitchell Barron
This torment is my torture,
A never ending suffering.
Alcohol only a temporary diversion,
Only one true way to end it all.
A blade with a jagged edge,
Fumbling in my hands,
Waiting for it's first taste of blood.
I slowly lye the cold metal against my skin,
A chilling surge rushes through me.
The blade waiting anxiously,
As my shaking fingers grasp the hilt.
I push down,
Forcing the blade through my skin.
Blood rushing to the surface,
My arm drenched in a deep red.
The world begins to spin rapidly,
I fall to the ground in a blur.
A pool of blood surrounding my wound,
Too weak to raise my limbs.
Unable to grasp my reality,
I close my eyes.
The darkness terrifying,
Waiting for the unknown.
My breathing slowing to a shallow gasp,
I know this life is almost over.
Now it's time to sleep,
Drift off and leave this place.
Comments about My Torment by Mitchell Barron
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.