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As I lay here
thinking of this world
you all say is
complete, content and caring

I come to see
the pity and the
of living

Having existence
drawing breath
giving life
are all forms of living hell

So as I remember
the pain of love
the mercy of family
and the desperation of need

I reach caressingly into
my mind of unconciousness
and retrieve
a friendly, truly friendly gun

Holding my friend
to my head
a tear slowly
rolls down my cheek

Not because of fear
nor hate
nor love
nor sorrow

But because of happiness
the happiness that I
will finally be free
and rid of this living hell

And go to my
true calliing
My home of personal content ...

My Dying Hell.

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