Your death

Suicide is a fickle thing.

Blood splashed to the floor, and I knew I couldn't help you.

I ran into the room, but I knew I was all too late.

Your reasons never made sense to me.

 

Your body hits the floor, and I heard your final breath.

I dialed 911, but I knew they can't save you.

Why didn't I realize that this was coming sooner?

 

Everyone comes in black, and there is no parade for you.

I sat in the first pew, but I felt like crawling in the casket with you.

My greif and anger will consume me.

 

I never ment to be mad at you, and I can't control myself.

I give up on any God, but I still go looking for answers.

I don't want to be condemned to the same fate as you.