The Writers' Circle

Pale skin, exposed veins
Both these filled with secret pains
As all the thoughts run through my mind
There is only one that you will find
Death

Sharp and silver razor blade
Slicing through the fog as dawn begins to fade
I close my eyes, hold back tears
Let sudden calm wash 'way my tears
Pain

Blood rushes out of the newly made wound
Life, love, it all ends too soon.
I say goodbye as death takes hold
In very few hours you'll find me cold
Suicide

Floating through an ethereal haze
Trying desperately to find my way
And when I do, it isn't good
If only I'd lived, if only I could
Plans