How many lives do I have left to wander,
Before I find a place in which to live?
How many reading demons must I slaughter,
How many Angels are there left for me to kiss?
Can I find strength to always be more noble
Than myself, mine enemy, would have me be?
Of this life I find myself becoming weary.
Of this soul, oh how I wish I could be free.
Come death and take me as your brother,
What I fear is not your touch but life to come.
Come peace and sleep it’s time that I should know you,
Give me earth to rest in for my journey here is done.
I do not fear the darkness and the silence,
I do not fear the sounding of the gun,
I do not fear the lick of blade or tremble,
At the chemicals now coursing through my veins.
What I fear the more is agony of living.
What I fear the more is hours not yet born.
What I tremble at is how I was created.
What I falter at is living just one minute here as me.