He was alone.
The dark engulfed everything,
Leaving him. Standing. Alone.
Who cared about his life?
He didn't.
It was just a life.
An immoral thing really.
he had thought about it,
Plenty of times;
Suicide, I mean.
Whether he wants it painful or painless.
Whether he wants it quick or slow.
He couldn't decide.
He just wanted it over.
For good.
To not have to worry,
Worry about being unloved.
Worry about being alone.
Unloved.
Forever.
Alone.
Forever.