Ending it all


An oblivious dream,

About failed dreams, hurting everyone I love,

I stare at my reflection in the mirror,

Sheer revulsion to everything I see,

I cry and wish I wasn’t me.



Life’s cruel jokes I cannot bear,

These pills just give cheap thrills with faux peace,

Memories of anguish and regret shall only hound,

Near and dear ones won’t understand the reason for this misfortune,

They think my broken heart can take these sorrows,

Just tired of failures and these secrets,

I shall abide my thought of ending it all.



Screaming, howling, a final frantic desperate shout,

Save me from this pain and agony,

My 9mm pistol, my only friend,

Trusted friend of mine I keep you close to my heart,

Promise me the pain will be sharp and the end will be near before the sight of my blood.



As they say the night belongs to the poets and the madmen,

I am the mad poet whose verses are dreary,

I haven’t shared my words which depicts my feeble soul carrying the burden of absurd egoism,

I pray to the narcissistic God to reward me a meaningful death.



I am trying to gather every bit of courage left in me,

The time I have been waiting for shall soon be here,

When I shall have no pain and no fear,

I have made up my mind,

My head is filled with the thoughts of ending it all.



This is freedom, freedom from shackles of society, freedom from rigid expectations of the loved ones, freedom from reality and thousand voices whispering don’t be afraid to end it all.   


Mind of a Junkie

The day passes by staring into oblivion, frozen in time, surrounded by ambiguous pool of thoughts. The only friend I have is my own reflection but sometimes I fight with it also.

Constantly trying to make some sense of the lines on my wrists and arms, if they are helpful enough to show me some sign or a way. Sitting with an empty head, shaking, sweating, mumbling and suddenly everything becomes blurred resisting the urges but the craving is enormous, even the preeminent gladiator would not be able to win this battle with my inner self.

Minutes becomes hours and hours becomes days as I continue to stare into darkness with a vivid imagination. The only peace I have is when I lay on the ground and hear the trumpet sounds because the pain is shifted into the background, this pain is the only thing that is real and the only feeling I have.

Broken, battered and bruised I walk; my eyes are red, staring at this big circular monument which I call it the circle of hope, trying to remember the merry days spent here but the state of insomnia ruins my merry memories as I recall them in parts. Some of the worldly treasures I have are the merry memories of the past which I call it my hidden treasure but now those are also fading away.

We are always changing with time and it’s a vital part of our lives and it can be anything, change in habits, friends, clothes, thoughts etc. I have also changed; a vital part of me has changed which are my past memories. Now it includes two needles, an arm band and some delusional thoughts which I have sometimes.

I hope this addiction doesn’t go away because this is the only reason I live for and to feed its growing need. Alive I feel, Alive……