My Life

Its ok to be sad

My life dances on a line.

A line of death and fire.

My heart is screaming.

It's crying out for help.

With this knife, I let them bleed.

With this sword, I pierce my heart.

With this blade, I cut my soul.

With this blood, it takes my life.

Now that I'm gone, who will know?

Now that I rest, who will remember?

Now that I sleep, who will care?

Now that I'm dead, why am I sad?