The Ink has Dried

My tears are the tools I'm left with,
My soul fades as I bleed every word,
You've possessed my soul,
so I pray every night 'Lord let this be my last',
I pull hard on that cancer stick hoping that breath would be my last,
hoping I wouldn't have to see You with someone else,
then I cry at night, as I bleed more and more, word after word, page after page,
as that day comes closer,
the day where there are no more tears, and these eyes You once loved weaken and the world darkens, the day where my blood runs barren,
... and the ink has dried ...