Tuesday, June 15, 2010

The Curse Of Hubble

In my room
All alone
Blade in hand
Heart of stone
Free from all
Worldly cares
Grades and life
Haughty stares

Slit that wrist
writhe in pain
Molting till
I see that vein
So much gore
Hands went numb
The beating heart
Now went dumb

True rapture
I don’t know why
Is felt when you
Are going to die
When times are bad
Within your life
You pray to God
I to a knife

Why wait for Thee
Be by your side
When you can just
Try suicide
Be happiness
Your final goal
Take thy life
And free your soul


  1. ideologically inconsistent. suicide poetry, however, can't be better. :I

  2. :| no reaction.