A time comes when death is God
And hope in the earth will increase
the decay that has begun to plague a soul.
Without delay while sinking, death
is the straw the soul will cling to.
There is no flaw in this thought.
Fast painless death is the only door
When the seed of doubt is planted
It is without form- harmless and gentle.
Then it grows into a lake of despair
That flows endlessly .
Darkness, sadness and angst begin to bloom.
Depression like madness blinds me until I plead
For solace in the arms of death.