Death of a Man

When is enough, enough?  How long must a man attempt to change, before it is realized that change will not, nor should not happen?  What good is that change, if it does more harm then good.  My mind used to be basically content.  Sure there were the times, when my mind would force myself into the depths of the Hell from my past.  To relive the evils done to me, and the evils done by me.  But I at least had thoughts.  I may have wished I would die.  Dreamed I would die. But I never did anything about those thoughts.  I would just push them down.  Drown them from my mind.  Let other thoughts take over.    

          My mind now is consumed with one singular thought.  Death!  It’s become a matter of sheer acceptance.  Before I may have wished I would die.  Now?  I know I will die!

 

 

Here lies the death of a man, who lived in his own ideas.

This man was a man, who spent his time, being very much amazed,

At the thought that he must die.

He lived a life, of death like solitude.  No pains or sorrows,

Would make him cry.

For death to him, was much more preferable,

To letting even a single teardrop fall.

But then he met some people.  They said they had a way.

“Don’t dwell on death!  Live now and die when you must die.”

They said.

He replied,

“I’m sure that’s very good advice.”

And then he went on home to bed.

And dreamed that he was dead.

So here lies the death of a man.  Who lived in his own ideas.

 

Why do these ideas keep coming into my head?

These ideas that tell me how I can become dead.

Why do I keep fighting what I already know?

Why can’t I get the courage to just let myself go?

Freedoms what I seek.  Freedoms what I need.

Freedoms what these ideas will finally give me.

My mind is now cluttered with these ideas of death.

Ending this Hell now, I believe would be best.

Whether a bullet to the brain or a knife through the heart

Or by some other means from this world I will soon part.

 

So here lies the death of a man.  Who lived in his own ideas.