Act of benevolence

And I knew you'd find me, circling near,

There's no point in pleading, no truce we can bear.

It's a part of life.

Each day feels like I'm pulling out another knife.

What sane mind would try to fight,

In shadows waiting for its last ride?

"No more you have to run," it says.

The ending is always appealing, and so it sways.

Tell me, do you know the guilt of breath?

It walks behind you from the day you're born; they call it death.

Each day, a blade I pull again and again,

A reminder of truths hidden beneath the skin.

Am I okay, or just a lit ember,

Breathing borrowed air in mid-November?

For I know I should not crave it; I'm not too old.

Death, as promised, will leave me dull and cold.

Death is the last act of benevolence from God,

After which thy soul will rest in the land of Nod.

They say death completes a man in all its majesty,

But it's also our greatest tragedy.

I know you're searching for irony,

But it leaves you out cold in frigid agony.

O, childhood, have you been loyal to me?

Or the teenage years, which flew right through the days?

And I didn’t know my adulthood would pass in days filled with haze.

For my sins, I'll pay in old age.

But you, you won’t betray, won’t fade.

As I lay in the chair, unfazed and not afraid,

I remember praying to God for the same.

But now that I think of it, it seems a little lame.

There's nothing from death one can gain.

It will leave my afterlife in stains

And my wretched being, as it hangs in pain.

So I’ll wait for you, my silent friend.

Come, reap me when you decide my end.