Death's Calling By: JoAnna Martin Standing on the bridge, watching the sun leave the sky, nothing but hollowness behind my vacant eyes. The tears fall tirelessly down my cheeks. My will to live growing ever more weak. The waves smash against the stone pillars below, as if trying to collapse the bridge- the only stability I know, the only thing standing between me and a quick death. One step closer to the edge brings me closer to my last breath. I wonder how many lost souls have stood here in this very place, thinking the thoughts that I think now with tears streaming down their face. I wonder how many of them have actually gone through with it, devoured by deaths temptation, wounded by life and ready to quit, leaping over the railing, plummeting through the air, the wind numbing their skin and whipping through their hair, penetrating the surface of the icy water, quickly swallowed by the crash of a wave, their lifeless body violently tossed as the stars begin to fade away. I wonder just how many of those same lost souls died in the name of love as their pain of loss took control. Just how many went down crying out an ex-lover's name wishing there was some way for that person to suffer their pain, so full of anger and resentment, bitterness, even hate, waiting for that sacred rescue but now its too late. The sadness swells within me as I relate to those emotions, the urge to jump consumes me as I acknowledge my fatal devotion. Well, I have to go now, its time for me to fly, to carry out my last decision, to kiss my life goodbye. I just hope the splash is loud enough for you to hear, as I embrace death's calling and you are nowhere near.Back to Morbid Poetry Index Back to Poetry Index Back to Home Page