does it really matter if I live or die
maybe it's right for me to kiss in the red sky
the feelings of death is here once again
sick thoughts repeating inside my head
I'm thinking of committing suicide

I look around my desolate room for a too to end this life
I see right through the gloom for my bloodstained knife
I stare at the blade once more, the light reflects in my eyes
across my wrist it now slides
I've had enough of my sins, of my pain, of my crimes
I'm on my weary trip to hell

I feel the cold blade against my skin
apply pressure and it cuts in
deeper and deeper but now it's too far
it isn't just a physical (but an emotional) scar
draggint the metal left to right
no one will find out this late at night
the anger that I feel, I left it out
I can't talk or even scream & shout

blood pours out I panic from the sight
my body feels weak and sore
I watch the blood fall on the floor
a drop lands on a note I wrote
titled: death is my last resort
I sit and wait for death

as I slit my wrist when I feel the pain
while I watch the blood run down my hand
my suicide it makes me free, controlled
when my life runs out, it will soon unfold
for a life of shame, I'll take the blame
it wasn't my fault I lived this way
take my soul away from here to eternal punishment
my suicide from this pain filled life

a past too dark to erase
out of place, out of time
a trail of bodies left behind
this is my contribution to the human race
cutting down the weak
this is my legacy

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