(I was checking my files last night when I found my old notebook, and found this. I have written this early last year)
This is before you came....
AN INVITATION TO DEATH
I received an invitation from Death today,
Someone I've never met.
He called to me from the very pits of my soul,
And said He'd get me yet.
I don't know what he wants me for.
I've no clue what He meant.
Death's invitation was black and dark,
Signed with my own blood,
How did He do that?
What does it mean?
Does it mean my time here is done?
If so, He said, when I attend the party,
Be sure to bring a gun.
Invited to show up, I thought what to wear,
But His invite set me straight.
This isn't the heaven I thought I'd go,
There is no pearly gate.
No need to dress,
No need to primp,
No need for special touches at all.
Slashed wrists, or a hole through my head,
And He'd simply let me call.
How simple to attend this special affair.
I don't need to bring a thing
But myself in whatever disarray I choose.
The easiness makes one sing.
Should I go?
Should I reply to this invite, so dark and dismal and full of dread?
I think about those that fill my heart
And wonder if I should think with my head.
My heart tells me, NO!
Those you love will need you near.
My head says GO!
Death's waiting for you.
There is nothing for you here.
Torn between responding to Death's call
And staying here to take all the pain,
My heart is broken and bruised beyond repair.
Does staying give me anything to gain?
Am I wanted?
Am I needed?
Death tells me No I am Not.
He says He needs me with Him instead.
He tells me He's all I've got.
So I sit here tears pouring down my face
And wonder how I came to be
This person so unwanted and unloved.
And I think I need to be free…
Free from sadness,
Free from anger,
Free from all the pain I've made,
Looking at Death's invitation in one hand,
In the other a shiny blade…
And Death is laughing in my tear-stained face
As I cowardly set the knife aside.
He knows I won't attend THIS party
No matter the feelings I hide.
He chuckles as I cry and sob my heart out over my simple life
So wrought with pain and anquish this day,
So filled with hurt and strife.
Death sent me an invitation today to a party I cannot attend.
And I hope by my ignoring the pain,
Someday my heart shall mend.