My sleep when it deigns to alight on
the threshold of my drooping, tired lids
is strewn with the fingerprints of cyanide dreams
smudging the tranquil veneer of somnolence
to make it a torturous sojourn
instead of a peaceful  respite of rejuvenation.

My thoughts abound in the ways to embrace death.
Life for me is a bane , a blistered existence
that I yearn to abate, to bring to an epilogue.

Years of living were  a monotonous trial
smeared with streaks of tears wiped away
and now the desire to live has withered away.
The only craving is to embrace the tranquilty
inherent in the welcoming arms of death
losing myself in the oblivion of eternal slumber
induced by its intoxicating poisonous kiss
alluring and captivating…