It’s no surprise that those who wish they were dead

Often point the trigger towards their head,
Right at the space between the eyes
Where the mind fabricates the most lies,

Behind all the protection of skin and skull,
Lies the most vulnerable part of all;
An empty space of truths and lies
Where integrity forever hides;

A place of dark skies and stormy clouds,
Where thunder shrouds and lightening crowds,
Where streets are flooded with endless rains
And darkness bounds the world by chains.

This is how I see my life;
With hunger, pain, and constant strife.
There is no sun and there is no moon;
Just a promise for a certain doom.

My hand brings the barrel between my eyes.
The gun is c***ed and ready to kill these lies.
The trigger aims to clear my mind.
But alas,
                                                it’ll happen all in due time.