suicide

The snow stricken teardrops of ablaze
separate slowly off the river.
The cry, the pain,
and the writhing hopes of life fall apart.
Soul does wither, the agony kills.
Should I return or still remain there
fall a victim to the rising scare
just to be drenched in my own despair.
Its not so easy.
The thrill, the beauty, the demoness.
Still ablaze me.
I rise up off my own coffin
and follow the death.