Alone in the dark I sat,
A deadly blade at my wrist,
Thinking sorrows through and through,
As the demons did persist.

I had all the time I wished
To sit and recall the past.
A thousand lives I assume,
Did the moments seem to last.

As I scraped my gentle skin
Against the sickly knife,
I felt the demons in my hand
Eager to take my life.

A thousand tries I tried,
A thousand times I lied.
My mind was contradicted,
As I sat alone and cried.

At last my demons triumphed.
At last my knife did pierce
My soft yet sickly skin,
And swallowed I was, by sin.

I could feel my worries
flowing with the blood of my wrist.
Like a rush of water, the pain did flow,
And the demons did persist.
And in an instant I did know
the calming touch of death.
Then into the mist of cold I crawled,
Where the demons did persist.