An End to the Torture that is Life

May the razor be quick with its cruelty

For life is a far more painful sentence of death

As the blade glides across blood rich wrists

A mass of unhappy flesh bathing deep in warm waters

Sunday best of white and black turn’s red with quickened pace

Sunday best red and black bids farewell to unwanted life

The razor rests upon its users flesh

Another deep wound to dull the pain of a sufferers fatal quest

No love to save him or call for help

No company to console him and deter him from his lethal choice

He did what was demanded and tried his very best

Only to fall short at the first hurdle of a race that was maliciously rigged

May the razor be quick with its cruelty

Life cheated as the last of his precious blood runs out

A bathtub of pale red water in an abandoned house

A dressed up body to lay hidden as nobody thinks to check

How much a life costs and what little is left

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