Scarlet

A suicide poem

Scarlet

Moonlight glistens on a silver blade.
Will anyone be able to feel my pain?
Brushing against my fingertips,
A trickle of scarlet I let slip.
Upon my sleeve it dares to fall.
Should I send a chilling call?
I stand up wishing all could hear,
The reason which my time is near.
My pain has gone for far too long,
So now I sing this lonely song.
Of dancing wolves and painted wings,
Wishing on a star hoping it soon brings,
The life in which I took away,
Leaving me now as a midnight host.