The day I tried to live
was the day I tried to die.
I tied up all loose ends,
and told the world goodbye.

With a gun in my fist,
and the Bible at hand.
Out to meet the afterlife
was my master plan.

With the barrel to my temple,
I suddenly heard a commotion.
Deciding to have a few more breaths,
my body went into motion.

A brightly burning house,
to anyone, a fiery doom.
Were four small little children,
stuck in their kiddie room.

Dropping my last tools of life,
not caring that it was winter.
I went to that burning hell,
the crackling door, I enter.

I stumbled into the searing heat,
where timber seared, it did.
I came upon my first target,
one unhurt crying kid.

Grabbing the little toddler,
into my shaking fist.
I came upon another one,
that I had seem to have missed.

Exiting that fiery pit,
two kids in each hand.
Dropped them off with watching adults,
and back into the house I ran.

The burning inferno had gotten worse,
but I did not care.
I just had wished and hoped
the other two childern better had fared.

Going to the second story,
I found them in a bed.
I went over to grab them,
fire flaming over my head.

I ran down the burning hallway,
I saw the door that I couldn't break.
There lied a scorching blaze,
I knew what action I had to take.

I threw the children out the nearest window,
and the house fell down with a crash.
I saw the children in caring arms,
and that moment was my last.

02/12/2002

Posted on 02/12/2002
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