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Visions of my crumpled, lifeless body
haunt my aimless footsteps.
Spectres from the grave welcome
this life-weary traveler.

Tomorrow, that will not come, denies
upturned eyes, the soft rains of hope.
Flames of sorrow and rage sear
this tortured soul.

Ragged hell-cries of desperation rip
and pierce my mind.
No sound is uttered,
since there is no ear to listen.

Grief rises and swells
like the limitless ocean,
swallowing this helpless, solitary victim
in tides of comfortless tears.

Mother earth, take this flesh, these bones
to your rocky bosom;
pull a cover of earth
over this last weary day.


This poem represents a very bleak period in my life.  After expressing my feelings on paper, I sought psychological and medical help.  I am now pleased to report that suicidal feelings have been left behind.  Bipolar, obsessive compulsive and paranoid personality disorders will always be with me; however medication and meditation allows me to live an intermittently happy life.