PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I feel the darkness enter my soul,

billowing up into my mind.

Thoughts of how my demise,

will set my being free.



I feel the cold steel of a pistol,

grasped in my sweaty palm.

Finger on the thin trigger,

with the muzzle to my head.



Ever so slowly I begin to squeeze,

wondering if this is what I should do.

The hammer falls and I hear a click,

next time I just may load it.