It Calls to me

Sometimes when all I hear are my thoughts dire

Hearing my downward thoughts in a bad mire

It's as if it calls to me like a lyre

It calls, and calls, and calls to me quietly

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It starts off first quiet quite quietly

Then begins to quickly pulsate softly

Makes you think death it could be quite lofty

Jump into ideas quite awfully

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I can hear the bleating under my bed

Hear the proceeding go under my head

Think of its dark blood desire to be fed

Surmise spewing forth shiny shapen lead

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I can hear the sound of bullet's pinging

Hear the great sound of my black AK singing

Hear the sound of every bullet slinging

With every single trigger pull I make

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What's one more trigger pull to deftly make

The true last trigger pull I'll ever take

And this time it won't be rehearsed or fake

Going off a cliff, there is no strong break

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I snatch the case from deep below my bed

Unhitch the locks and pop open the case

There it lies with its black beautiful face

I can hear it calling loudly, loudly

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Embrace, Embrace, Embrace, Embrace, Embrace

Load one round bullet and prepare to brace

This is my moment, this is my sad place

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There’s nothing left in this drab world for me

Life's gone, so gone, and won’t come back you see

"But HE wouldn't want this" is my last short plea

As I conjure up doubts on sweaty end

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"It's not my time, it's not my time," I hear

First quietly, then softly, then loudly

As my mind begins to so thusly see

No more does machination call to me