Morning's Grace

The mornings grace is all I need
To grab this blade and start to bleed
To the morning light, I shall pray
So I may cut on this brand new day

The pity that cries from me
With all this blood that is to be
I cut once more
So the blood may spill on the floor

Winter winds blow my tattered life
As I move towards this rusted knife
I close my eye, I think of what I'm to do
When I make this suicide true

The wolf baying at the moon
Death, I am to meet soon
Lonesome howl, sorrow filled moan
This long lusted death to be grown

Another life to be lost in blood
More tears to add to this flood
Words written on a blank page
Feet dancing across the stage

Loneliness, with this blade I cut thee
Hidden behind what is to be
The colour fading from my loved lips
Cuts appearing on my curved hips

Grasped between weakened fingers
Is this blade that wish to lingers
Faults of life that are to redeem
From light, this is not to be seen

Failure leading to this blade
Now this hurt shall start to fade
Morning's light has gone from here
As my thought begin to clear

Open palms, blood is filling
Through these fingers, this blood is spilling
The blade is falling from my hands
That falling blade understands

Tears running down, smoothness of death
The tears realise that a life has been theft
The blood snakes to the ground
To this death, I am bound

Eyes left staring to oblivion of emptiness
These little tears begin to distress
Cold is the skin that bore such warmth
But now this warmth shall never come forth

Morning's grace to highlight this suicide
And all the many times that I had cried
Winter winds blow upon the curtains that shade
And reveal this long rusted blade