There's no poetry in death
Not a dark tunnel with light at the end
No Charon
No Hades
No Hell or Heaven

There's no poetry in blood
Just an essential human fluid
That's all;
No magic in it
No symbols
Nothing; it's just blood

Forgive me if I sound a bit cynic;
I can't help it.
There's no poetry in dying
Or in suffering
Or slitting your throat
Conjure not these things;
You don't have to die to be a poet.

There's no poetry in giving up on life
And dying a most painful death
(There is poetry in dying,
but only rarely in killing yourself)

There's no poetry in cutting your veins open
There's no poetry in letting your blood drip
There's no poetry in saying that it is

No poetry.
Just death.
Death setting free.
(After all, it's the remains of life that hurt)

Death is not vengeful.
Not evil.
Not desired.
Not punishing.
Not something you should crave.
There's no poetry in death.