They say you're weak,
But I think you're strong,
Because its not that easy,
To give up your life,
To act against instinct,
And they will never get it.
They’re there when you’re dead,
But what use is that,
When no one heard your screams,
Your bitter sobs and cries for help,
That wiped your whole soul clean?
Why would their thoughts matter,
When they were never there,
How could they even get it?
They think they’re right,
that they have the right,
To pass divine judgement.
But no one gave them that right,
To decide if you should live,
That’s your choice, and yours alone.
Maybe, as sad as it is,
Its the only thing that is.
You tried so hard to hide the tears.
To gather up your strength,
You wanted to live,
You wanted to laugh,
But you were never given the chance.
They hurt you the worst possible way,
They tried to take your choice,
They may not have made the decision,
But it was they who took your life.
Faint eerie cries from a distant wasteland,
Calling out your name,
The Hanging Man beckons you near,
And their phantom hands are pushing you to him.
You don’t really want to fall through the Veil,
But do you really have a choice?
What is there in this world for you,
Besides tears, pain and lies?
No one wants you,
No one cares,
Nobody notices how broken you are.
Their eyes brush past you in the hall,
Their words fly over your head,
You’re invisible,
You don’t exist,
So why are you even there?
They say that suicide it for the weak,
Because it does not eliminate the bad,
It eliminates the chance for good,
But why would you take that chance?
Why would you hope when you have no heart,
Just an organ circulating blood?
Why would you want to take a risk,
When there’s no one to stop your fall?
Nothing scares you anymore,
Because you may be here for now,
But you know that maybe tomorrow,
You won’t be here at all.
There may be a wake in the cemetery,
That’s about a block from your house,
Or you could be sitting where you are.
The sky would still be blue,
The stars would still be bright in the night sky.
The sun would rise,
And so would the moon,
And the seasons will continue their cycle,
You don’t see what would change if you died,
So why not?
You’ve reached a point where you’re not sad,
You’ve gone beyond that point,
You’re just tired to the bones.
Your whole body aches with it,
You’re tired of this whole darn life.
The voices are killing you,
They taunt you in your sleep,
They jeer and taunt your very being,
Even when the sun has reached its peak.
They haunt your every day routine,
They follow you to your room,
They follow you down the road to the grocers,
They haunt you as you move.
Reality is a prison for you,
And some part of you hopes,
That once you’re gone,
And buried six feet under,
That maybe someone would come and see.
Maybe they would put flowers on your grave.
And for once.
For once in your whole darn life.
You would be beautiful.
