My second poem.

Death is a one-way street

"Set me free,
Of all the things that I perceive.
And set me free,
Of all the things that I want to be.
Because it's the burden of the fragmented happiness that I can't bear.
Grim Reaper's approaching footsteps in the hallway, I hear.
"Don’t do it!" He said to me.
But little does he know about the person I want to be.
About the soul I want to be.
"Free, of all the unearthly fantasies I get every night.
And free of all the anguish." I told him in fright.
I don't want to be that soul anymore, I thought he knew.
A scythe from his prodigious body, he discreetly drew.
My unusual desires made him slit my throat in sorrow.
"Look son, you're up here now. You don't have to worry about tomorrow.""

• 11th May 2017, 10.32 P.M.