Who could term this
act
an act that is complete?
A thin trickle of red watch how it seeps
As slowly precious life from her it does creep
Yes it stains the pure white satin sheets
Loosed from her prison now destiny she greets
In her death is there victory or just bitter defeat?

Let us ask
who with intense longing ever weeps?
As the wrecked young lives pile up in putrid heaps
Suicide is desperation it is the final sad end they meet
Could such loneliness and confusion be termed as neat?
In these Occasions of sorrow when nothing is sweet
When decadent lies are being preached out on the street

What are such needs that no one could meet?
Is your life one of horror and never a treat?
At a mirror you stair and it reflects your defeat
So your anger and fear you have learnt to keep in the deep
Rejected loves are the precious memories you keep
For tender words and touches you would openly weep

I hope now in peace you can finally sleep
No more a tormented mind to barrage or keep
In life’s flock you were but a lost baby sheep
In your hour of need why was I so weak
Tears freely roll down from my cheek
Life’s tragedies will forever keep me meek
For the answers to life I shall eternally seek