Dying a little bit more each night
Soon all that will be left is an empty shell and a good idea
Nowhere left to turn to
Like a poker player with one card short of a ROYAL FLUSH
Malnourished from years of holding on
Waiting and waiting, working the cards to see when it will turn up
But the time has come!
To lay the cards on the table
I am one card short of a good idea
Naked and in a weakened state I lie on the table
Squirming in agony like Gollum without his precious
Waiting for the Grim Reaper to come and claim his prize
For his BLADE to pierce my chest
To quite this soul
To put to rest this tortured spirit
To take away those long, lonely, tormented sleepless nights!