Baskadia

There are many ways of dealing with pain,
Most of them are wrong some of them are right,
But it's up to me to decide,
If I want to live or die.
They say you shouldn't choose,
Coz you'll have a lot to loose,
But what if dark thoughts are all that I call my muse?


The pain is too much to bear,
To even think I have a life to spare,
This is a têtê-a-têtê of life and death,
Between the rope on the ceiling and I.


It dangles up high,
Swaying from side to side,
As a gust of winds blows in through the barn window,
I stare at it's nylon nature,
It comes alive slowly saying,
"You know what you have to do,my lil friend in blue,
I can make it go away coz you know what,
You don't have to stay."

I think back to the rope's words,
For a moment they seem wise,
I mean,after all,I deserve to pay the price,
You see,my friends, It's been said I'm I'll,
Just cause I like it when I skin.
It's been an obsession of mine,
Since I was nine,
Making the puppies hurt,
Brought so much joy in my life.




My parents and loved ones shunned all this,
they wanted to take away my everlasting bliss,
From institution to institution,
A familiar patient I became,
The drugs, the therapies, I was deemed insane,
They thought I would be better,
Better,better,better,
But I really wanted the taste of sweet sweet surrender.


"Yes,yes,you see the animals gasp,
Their faces contorted with utter disgust,
Inch closer,come please,
I'll put you in an eternal slumber,
So you don't have to wonder,
What if,what if,
There's no need to ponder."

I walked towards the rope,
Climbing the neatly stacked hay,
Wrapped it round my neck,
What the heck,
An outsider is what I am,
Misunderstood and never seen as good,
Is not a life I want to live.
"You have made the right choice,
It's time to rejoice,
For the end is near,
Goodbye my dear.