Hell is an unknown threshold my eyes saw fit to touch;
I counted inbound and tempted seconds of restrain to find my only faith,
Just so I could touch my very own breathing vein;
Helen Joseph is my prison witness for my long-waited freedom for living and writing these poems again;
Why would I die knowing I killed myself in more than just poison and fire?
My body is home for me, and home, right now, is farther than harmony reaching for his maker;
Still, I seek to find a solution for the problem suicide finds
to make it a thought in my mind
till this very day;
I wish to tell suicide a very good story of hope
And un-ending happiness and joy in his dark and death-causing smile;
Soul’O Rocks doesnt want to be found in this world too cointained with its luxuries.