Death's Embrace

With arms outstretched, I embrace my death,
inhaling and holding my last pained breath.

Be gone from me, wretched source of life,
from my wrists, I have freed you, with this knife.

Feeling my sick blood slow and grow cold,
oozing from my veins like tainted, prized gold.

Watching it creep, than surge like a river,
as my scorned body weakens and shivers.

Stealing one last thought of the love I knew,
before this vile corpse turns stiff and blue.

Gone now is the image, as my sight fades,
no longer feeling the pain my own hands made.

Closing my eyes, I exhale for the last time,
as death takes me, and is finally mine.