I wish to leave the confines of my body and flee my restless state of silent chaos
Escaping the binding mental chains placed on me with the contractual accurateness
Of a bullet through the temple of my cranium or an arrow through my beating heart
For when fermented drink no longer quenches my heavy thirst but instead renders
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I beg you God to provide grace and mercy for my soul The time has come for me to go… please dont go from poem hunter..
Ted, Fragile and finite humans wither and die. Let our passing be swift and without pain. A difficult subject and nice write. Peace, Ray PS I like your poem titles without all the ~*~ do-dads..thanks. Trade does it too...