Falling -- July 11, 1998

Falling
	falling

		into the welcoming arms of darkness
		-- how soothing it is 
		everything is placed within 
		a box like like
		an automaton - unfeeling,
		unthinking.

And so I am
like a Russian doll
one within another
our faces painted smiles,
our insides empty
holding nothing
but meaningless
memories.

And the world continues to spin,
regardless of the time,
there is no rest for the sinner

Oh how weary I am.

I am my own burden, 
walking through 
this endless path
of unceasing despair.

There are days that I dream --
how fleeting mine are,
of a life without pain
almost doll-like in nature,
but I know
it is only
a false image
that tantalizes and
teases my soul.

Dancing towards and
then away from my outstretched
fingers,
this faint hope 
dims
as my eagerness
vanishes in time.

Darkness looms over me.

Once, I will embrace its
warmth and bid
a quiet farewell
to this world.

The few that knew me,
would shed some tears,
but this final act
of redemption 
should give me
in death what I could
not have in life.