Last Testiment of a Dying Soul

My will to live is slowly escaping from my ever weakening grip,
With thoughts of blades on wrists to take away emotion with one slip,
I wonder to myself how I will lose hope and bring down life,
Reaching into the drawer and slowly pulling out the blood thirsty knife.

Tears formed in my eyes as I wrote down the last I willed,
I will not let man or god decide when I will eventually be killed,
The blood flowing out of my body represents the leaking of my soul,
How I thought I was loved but much pain proves I am a fool.

Run myself through with the blade so hungry for more,
My next strike will be fatal and will drop me to the floor,
But should I do it and is all this pain worth ending my living,
Am I sure that the best thing for everyone is stopping my breathing.

It doesn't matter if they care or not about me,
Without my problems they can live happy and free,
I must end it all to show what I'm feeling now,
Death will make me more at peace somehow.

If you are reading this its because I'm no longer here,
I have ended my problems and gotten rid of my fear,
I bid you all a final farewell as I leave this place,
I'm down here in hell spitting in Satan's face.