Death often comes to visit me,
And asks if I would like to take his hand;
He says he’ll set my demons free,
And we will go together from this tortured, crippled land.
Insistent, like a beating drum,
Forbidden thoughts, unbidden, come.
Sometimes I find I really want to go,
To where my troubled soul might find release;
Without the pain and memories that bring me low;
To lie in quiet darkness and the nothingness of peace.
I care too much for others, yet I do not care for me,
It would hurt them if I chose to seek that dreamless, endless sleep.
Almost every day I long for Death to set me free,
But the chains of love are anchored far too deep.
But, should the loved ones in my life all walk away,
And leave me here, alone, without a friend,
Then there would be no reasons left for me to stay;
I could walk the lonely back road to that sudden, long-sought end.
Insistent, like a beating drum,
Forbidden thoughts, unbidden, come.