An Elegy to Suicide Cliff

Fret not over the rhythmic static 

The time ticks no longer sporadic

for the throes have reached a standstill

Futile prayers for swells of goodwill

What once thrived in fleeting illusion

Surrender may offer no solution

Rest now in immobility amort

As we’ve reached our ultimate port

Fear not little dove, decision’s inconsequential

Our destinations stray from a realm penitential 

Turmoil and squalor will set you free

Always remember memento mori