We are the suicide kings.
We thrust our swords to our unhappy heads without remorse.
We abandon all.
We crush the hearts of those who mistakenly love us.
We want to be free.

The encouraging cries of proximate bodies do not reach us.
The depthless black jaws of an end unknown do not frighten us.
The unsolved mysteries and unresolved future of our lives do not stop us.

We hurt.
We flame.
We know no-one knows but us.

We suicide kings wear our crowns of abandon
     and bask in the golden touch of our misery

killing spirits with a breath.