Come in friend!
I have been waiting for you.
I am tired.
Do you have anything for this disease called Life?
I have struggled long enough I think.
People tell me not to give up,
But like a field suffering blight
I must die.
People do not see the pain and blame
I inflict on myself.
People keep insisting that I best get better
But I do not see it that way.
I see a long dirt road with few signs,
And no footprints to follow.
I ask, old friend, to cure me from this benign disease which is Life.
Pain only has me more acutely aware of Life.
Life becomes more prominent and insistent that I participate with it.
I do not want to partake!
I called you here because you are the ultimate reliever.
I ask that you cure me of Life.
The light fade from my eyes.
Body become cold.
Joints be stiff.
Grief be born.
Hope for better days be dashed.
Future shattered into threads to be woven into new futures.
I plead with you my old friend, Death, take me.