To Kill Oneself

Over knights I fell,
plunging deeper into the well
of thoughts that twist and pull me down,
bringing me closer to my own demise.
Yet the killing, truly, is not needed—
for there are ways to die that leave no mark.

To ignore is not to harm,
to harm is not to maim,
to maim is not to kill,
to kill is not to destroy.

And to destroy is not to understand
the labyrinth of my own mind,
the shadows that move behind closed doors,
the echoes that haunt these hidden corridors.

To understand oneself is to peer into the dark,
where the lines between survival and surrender blur.
It is to face the beasts that roam within,
to see the pain but choose not to give in.

For harm can be quiet—a whisper in the soul,
a silent scream, an unspoken toll.
Yet, to kill what’s within is a different sin—
a final act that leaves no room to begin again.

But to destroy is not to comprehend
the tangled threads that bind my heart,
the fears that gnaw and tear apart,
the yearning to end yet still to mend.

So here I stand, on the precipice,
a heart weighed down by broken bliss.
The killing is not needed, I begin to see—
what I seek is not death, but the freedom to be.

To understand is to unravel the threads,
to look within where even angels dread.
For in the depths of this darkness, I find
the will to live, the courage to be kind—
first to myself, then to others who bear
their own battles hidden in the midnight air.

Over knights I fell, and yet I rise,
seeking not the end, but a clearer sky.
For to destroy is not to heal,
and to heal is to finally feel.