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May the act Of coaxing my blood Out into the open, Ald letting it happen, Of watching myself bleed Act as the means by which I purge myself Of the anguish, Pain, tourment, fear, Hatred, amptyness, and darkness. Yes. Let me bleed Allow me to rid myself Of everything. Everything that haunts Me, even in the brightest Of times. And as the last Drop of crimson Falls from my Pale wrist, Let me go home... Allow me to die. The pain is too much For me now. My sharade Has lost its Grain of truth. I know today, That tomorrow won't Be better, Because my light Is too far away To reach, or even see.
So please, I beg of you. Let no one ever Feel this pain again. Allow me to rid Myself of this Unbearable tourment. Let me go, With the last drop Of crimson, Let me die. Thora Grace Hawkwing
