Some people are born to live

But I was born to die

If I said anything else

It would be a lie

Some have a purpose

To save another soul

But all I know is darkness

A great cavernous hole

Some live with a burning

That is forever yearning

But I have a black heart

That begs to stop not start

Deep within is a gaping yawn

An empty hollow world

A bleak vapid space

Where all feelings are hurled

Somewhere is my true voice

Below the depths of despair

Taking a broad wooden comb

And pulling at my hair

Reaching out beyond the void

Is my true calling

A place to be employed

No longer falling

But still I am me

A child of the night

For where I walk death follows

By my left and my right

The scythe mows the grass

The axe for fire wood

A knife to make things clear

So I am understood

For the night is my day

And the day is my night

Only in the cold empty quiet

I no longer need to fight

So I walk into a run

Past the ends of the world

Dodging the rays of a gun

That makes straight hair curled

But the world has no ends

No corners or bends

I keep on running

As the wolf is cunning

The moon begins to wane

To find sanity again

Looking forward to the spring rain

To release me of the pain

Of a child born to die

By the villagers hounded

Never free to fly

Always feeling grounded

A child born to die