Disturbed thoughts of a man on the edge
Armed with a pistol pointed at his head
Giving up faith in his God
Seeing him as but a fraud
Struggling with the battle between
Living or entering eternal sleep

Why say oui to a life of agony
When the prospect of death is so sweet?
Here one is truly free
Liberated from the troubles with compound thee
Thinks the man
With gun in hand

His happy days gone to the place he wishes to reside
Ponders he, “maybe I will meet them when I die
For those days have long gone from any Earthly presence
So in death they will reappear as a present
From my ending of this torture
For the land of free of all horror”

He takes one last breath before committing the act
Cocks his hammer back, pulls the trigger
And falls flat to the mat