Curtain Call

I do not feel.
My mind is racing.
My heart beats like a drum.
I search my soul,
I part my lips;
But forth do no words come.
My spirit blank,
my being crushed,
I've lost all will to live.
I have no strength,
no point in life...
What have I to give?
A million ways
to end the show,
one dramatic final scene.
I cannot choose,
I can't decide,
the one befitting me.
To bleed would be
too gruesome-
'Twould stain my porcelain skin.
A thund'rous boom,
a bullet wound,
belies the quiet war within.
But to close the act
with too much
of a gratifying thing,
to bid the world
adieu as such
is a feat of which to sing.
With grace, yet without
dignity,
the curtains finally close.
And I shall lie
forevermore
in beautiful repose.