For Janice

Let death be my guide,
through all the pains I feel inside,
Let madness come in stride,
and never leave my side,
Let grief come in my life,
from which I could never hide.
Let loneliness fill my veins,
in this life in which,
I will soon vacate.

Cry not for this man's distraught,
for my pain, I myself has brought.
Let me ponder with my own desolation,
I am not in need of you commiseration.

I leave now with my dejection
With love lost, no hope and redemption.
Mourne not in my expiration,
You brought this forth,
With your own contemplation.

Give not of things you dont control,
Ask not of things you dont construe.
Say not of word that is specious.