Times Like these.

It's times like these i think of Death,
About it's possibilities to end my breath.

How wondrous it'd be to rest in Peace,
Without the daunting thought of paying a Lease.

To blind the Sun for one last time,
Couldn't possibly be such a Crime.

To be Worth it or Not?
Is what becomes much a plot.

But Nonetheless,
I think of Death and its Bless.