Dear Diary - (Disease)

Cutting too deep,
saying goodbye.
Easy for me,
not a tear in my eye.

Hold tight to the blade,
watch the crimson pour.
Hiding this darkness;
no point anymore.

So tired of trying,
no reason it seems.
Time for me to sleep;
live in my dreams.

I cannotbe cured,
from the sickness I obtain.
Consumed by this depression.
Controlled by this pain.

Embittered by Hatred,
Refuged by Darkness.
When did my life,
turn into this mess?

As my vision fades,
and my heartbeat slows.
My life is ending,
and no one knows.

Now crimson flows freely,
as the blade falls from my hand..
Ive become tired of fighting this,
Im taking my last stand.

I have a disease,
this is my antidote.
The last poem I write,
is my suicide Note...

www.nightreign.deviantart.com
-go to Dear Diary - :Disease: for a pic