Beauty

If I wasn't me,
I'd cry a thousand tears.
I'd think back with sadness,
On all the painful years.

Beyond the point of screaming;
I look forward to the end,
When I can wake up dreaming;
My mistakes, I shall amend.

I stand alone upon my hill;
My sword shining in the sun,
Polished up for one last kill;
Beauty in the death of one.