Eerie Sounding Joy

Suicide takes many forms, hides in different types of people, lurking behind every curtain, peering from darkened doorways. Yet, at times standing in broad daylight, punctuating it's escape on deathly paths, often delegating certain thoughts or ideas to take hold of a mind depressed, saddened by life. Gently tripping, stumbling over words said aloud, echoing still, within vibrations of inner pain. Talking softly, whispering in memories of past deeds done in anger or hatred, unrelentingly charging against any peace of mind. Unforgiving, silently decadent in tears salted with the pain of remembering. So much of life is deposited towards a final goal, through suffering and time spent alone, that there no longer seems to be room for any of it. Suicide has an eerie sounding joy connected to it, because everlasting deathly life will unhesitantly come to pass.