The shadows dance in the eerie moonlight, foretelling the coming of the dreadful night.
      The wind is whispering through the trees, calling, calling out to me.
      Saying succulent words of false promises.
      Spreading rumors of a paradise without grievances, without pain, without sorrow.
      The words slip from its mouth like maggots from a corpse.
       So easy to come by, so easy to lie about.
       "Kill," they rasp.
       "End it," it screeches.
       " Die," I think.
       And when the sun bleeds over the horizon I realize. It was all just a part of the dreadful night.
-Arasia_Valentia

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A/N Suicide=No bueno.