This day I willingly take my life, into my own hands but with a knife.
Awkward and peculiar as it is, amateur I was at gulping such strife.
I always love sewing these rhymes, letting words dance to the unheard chimes.
I do it again as I fall to my knees, joyous it is when my heart and body mimes.
I have heard a lot about this god's boon, one which was too precious to ruin.
Money is but an ornament they said, but it was the sun that shone in the noon.
Of love was sang the sweetest song, but now I see it was all wrong.
It is a desire of a drunken head, dried in weed and hit with a gong.
A life seems bright in a shining name, so does your pride in a sparkling fame.
Neither of them contented me, but brimmed my empty heart with a shame.
I tried weighing on my parents and friends, but all they bore were the present day trends.
My heart was thus destined to be, tormented by every luxury it lends.
So I end my poem of death, for it looks good but gives no joy.
I end it in a happy breathe, atlast I see I am but a God's toy.
Awkward and peculiar as it is, amateur I was at gulping such strife.
I always love sewing these rhymes, letting words dance to the unheard chimes.
I do it again as I fall to my knees, joyous it is when my heart and body mimes.
I have heard a lot about this god's boon, one which was too precious to ruin.
Money is but an ornament they said, but it was the sun that shone in the noon.
Of love was sang the sweetest song, but now I see it was all wrong.
It is a desire of a drunken head, dried in weed and hit with a gong.
A life seems bright in a shining name, so does your pride in a sparkling fame.
Neither of them contented me, but brimmed my empty heart with a shame.
I tried weighing on my parents and friends, but all they bore were the present day trends.
My heart was thus destined to be, tormented by every luxury it lends.
So I end my poem of death, for it looks good but gives no joy.
I end it in a happy breathe, atlast I see I am but a God's toy.