The Suffering

Sitting in my room
with a gun in my mind
seeking all the answers
We know I'll not find
Finger on the trigger
from despair, no respite
I wonder will I do it
maybe on this night
grog in my tankard
desire in my soul
a way out of this impasse
I must make the goal
Sweet tears of suffering
sick of mortal woes
no meaning in this message?
well, that's the way it goes
rambling and ranting
to cease would be divine
no sense of recanting
no more rotting vine
The bitch that killed me won
no reason left repress
secrets out, not sure why
why did I tell the temptress?
I know this is trite
but to end this stress
erase Mosquitobyte
would stop this crying
but only for this night

© 2005, Mosquitobyte