Suicide is Boring
Of a valiant.
Confused by the length of his blade.
Performed his studies
By tracing his wrist
Along a rusted insignia.
Prayed for stigmata.
To give a positive mumble
To his trembling flesh.
Here he bowed
Made claim to death.
While his eyes bulged
In a neon-noose-eye roll.
That he felt
The hand of God.
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