Knife's Edge

I stare at my blade,
And all I see is a tool of war,
Made not for a time of peace,
But for a moment of war,
To inflict pain and suffering,
Not to help and ease,
People say they are proud,
Of there kill count with a blade,
The cold, sharp and unforgiving edge,
That does not discriminate,
On who it inflicts it's pain,
The edge is hungry,
And wants to be fed,
With the blood of it's victims
Can you resist,
It's call for blood

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The cliffs bottom seemed endless,
Standing at the edge,
The first time in my life I thought about ending everything.
Staring down gave me butterflies,
But at this moment it didn't really phase me.
All I had been through,
What I had seen,
Feeling like the heavens were calling for me.
Or was it hell?
It all felt the same,
All I know is that the feeling is strange.
Not saying goodbye to anyone,
So selfish,
Thinking how I'd be the guardian angel for the ones who loved me.
Then I took a step back,
Reconsidering my judgment,
I awoke on my bed knowing that wasn't my style.
Ending it all just isn't the thing to do,
The pain was horrendous and wretched,
But going through it for you was all worth the while.

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