The Land Without Me

Would many people really care if I just "disappeared"?

My hands are shaking
My mind is faltering
I throw away and adopt the new
Yet with the new, it's hard to follow through
With shaking hands, and with a blind heart
I cannot see the light, helping me from the darkness depart
I'm like a taut string, as one ready to break
My anger is being me to a place, which I wish not to relate
With shallow breathing, and fists clenched at my side
With a blank expression into space, with these feelings I must hide
My defenses are faltering and my emotions are departing
Why can't I keep what I want on life's quest I'm always embarking?
The truth is something that all seek
But can people accept the truth, when it comes to me?
I'm filled with hate, anger, depression, and defeat
My emotions are the wicked truth- truth that man wants, but doesn't want to hear
The question is, would anyone actually miss me if I disappear?
The land without me, as it could come to be called
T'would be a joyous place without me
When all I bring is wickedness and defeat
The land without me for all would be a treat
As a land easier for all, and as one where I do not face defeat
The land without me would offer her children a sweet embrace
For in all honesty, most I know wouldn't batt an eyelash if I left this place
When all you can offer is useless and depressing poetry
Would anyone honestly want you alive in the majority?
They wouldn't, and I don't blame them, mind you
Which is why the land without me would be a joyous place to live through
With the only sadness being a few family and true friends
Would the sadness of some outweigh the joy of others?
It wouldn't, and you know it
Although you seek for your face not to show it
You offer me useless pity
When all I want is the harsh truth
You want to save your conscience from throwing me into the pit of despair
But you don't know that I'm already above it, clenching into it by a rabbit's hair
You offer useless banter, and always hide what you think
You don't verbally support the land without me, but in your head you often rethink
With anger, depression, hopelessness and hate
I can't contribute to this land in its current state
As the emotional wreck I am
I need the blade to keep my emotions from surmounting
When all you have for comfort is words from the tales of old
And a God that you can speak to and hardly hear
Is it easier to talk and read
Or take the blade and accept defeat?
My mind is conflicted between what I know is true
And what I honestly want to do
I should reach out to God, and take the hand of the one who made me
Yet I can't, because I know that the land without me would be a better place
I view the blade as a better option, than lashing out at the One who can set me free
So give me the blade, and let me help myself
On the road to success, and the land without me, being absent of hell
So as I write and the emotions surmount
I reach the base of my emotions-
The ones I've trained myself to live without
I realize that the land without me is a good solution indeed
But I lack the strength and courage to save those around me
With a knife through my chest plunging straight to the heart
The land without me would be a story which all would soon embark
This f*****g hell, which I live through every day
Is another day, from the land without me I delay
My hell known as life
Is full of ever present strife
I guess myself from deep within
And try with all my might, this hell to withstand
I accept defeat, flirting with ideas of the land without me
I think of all who it would effect
And reach the end result with kindergarten math
So one day, the land without me will be made
And true joy will be found, from the beginning to the end of the day.

Author's Note

There might be some typos that occurred through the porting from paper to phone