Fighting For existence

The red drops were on the floor,

And an ominous silence roared.

He had longed for absolution,

From the chaos to the solution.

Everything is relative he was told,

Love, pain and the downer's song.

So, he chose a way out,

From his plane of existence.

He stretched out his palms,

Looking for truth in the mute lines.

And he kept staring at them,

For he was thinking who they might hold.

A shard of glass tinted red,

Was lying next to where he sat.

The shard had just kissed his body and soul,

But, this kiss initiated a red flood of pain.

He pulled out a photograph faded,

From his pocket and held his breath.

Unassuming people and smiling faces,

A peephole to one's past.

Like a one-way ticket to the memory land,

Soon turned crimson and wet in his hands.

Drowsiness engulfed him and he fought back,

Shook himself a little and tried to relax.

A well thought and conscious decision it was,

But, now it seemed like an over hurried plan.

As the elixir of life kept flowing out of his body,

The will to live kept increasing.

But who is to blame for miscue,

The society, his conscience or bad virtue.

He tried to focus but couldn't think,

When he thought he was on the event horizon,

He had actually crossed the point of no return.

The will to fight back slyly evaporated,

He closed his eyes and the curtain fell.