Sweet Death

A bomb is inside me
It’s foreboding to explode
How much time left?
One minute?
Two?
Or three minutes, I guess.
Am I afraid?
No, not really.
For I’ve prepared myself
To this kind of adversity.

Something enswathe me
Million pins perhaps
They tear my heart apart
And it hurts like hell
Such an exquisite pain.
I smell my blood
Rushing through my veins
How would it feel to taste it?
If the bomb explode,
This lament would end
It would rip me into pieces
Including my frail heart.
Then I would be free
Free from this folly
Free from this animosity
And definitely free from you.

So now I sit on your lap
With this enlightened thoughts of suicide
I wait for my final breath
In your arms,
I’d welcome sweet death.

purple_mist