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Suicide Sonnets
by Lyle Berry (Age: 61)
copyright 07-24-2002


Age Rating: 18 to 127

 
I used to be amazed by that grim act;
could not conceive how life could be so bad.
No longer do I question it, in fact -
it’s only for the living, death is sad.
While my opinion’s changed, don’t think me mad.
If life’s so great – go on – you can live mine!
But as for me, I’m running out of time.

We struggle from the womb - we just can’t wait
another second to commence the flail.
From thence to tomb, we tempt relentless Fate -
refusing to believe that we will fail,
‘til She has sucked us dry and left us pale.
Naïve, I thought that maybe I might win -
and you tell me that suicide’s a sin!

So how does one descend to pessimist;
collapse into the black hole of despair,
forget about the things he might have missed
and set a course to where there are no cares?
It happens when your soul is filleted bare.
To me it’s just a question of degree -
deciding when sweet Death should set you free.




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10-26-2002 Audrey Sullivan    

You will always be
special.
07-24-2002 Peggy Bertrand    

lyle,

this was an excellent read....
07-24-2002 William Robbins    

Sometimes when the perennial night of despair entombs are mood, it is so hard to find even a spark of hope or reason to wait for another dawn. As a mood, you have certainly painted that pain and ache very intensely. I only pray this was a poetic expression for you and not a encompassion shroud of sadness that you can cast away.
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