in anger turning the knife on himself

seeking to cause others pain,

too late as the blood poured out

flowing down from his chest

gushing around the knife.....

in rage pushing it in to the hilt

spreading out in a pretty pattern over the floor,

the red on the white tile actually beautiful,

the pain greater than he thought,

not however as great as regret,

knowing there was no turning back,

the world fading into black,

dying alone,

sinking forever,

oblivion.