3.23 am

3.23 am and inky black skies,
The sole witnesses to my tortuous demise.

Thoughts in a flurry within my head,
What went wrong, what I did, what I said.

A glass in one hand and a lighter in the other,
Death between my lips, I suppress a slight shudder.

Pills crushed in my drink and closeted ambition,
Docile and unquestioning, an inner war of attrition.

As my eyes slowly close, at 4.47,
I glimpse it once, a nonexistent heaven.

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