A Poem - Finis-en avec moi, mon ange! (Finish me off, my angel!), by Michelle Murphy
The world is dying, people are passing.
Or going elsewhere, to Hell.
I'm grieving, there's a pit before me,
There's nothing tangible that tastes good left.
I'm about to take a dive.
Yet if I focus my faith on two things:
A will to live, and faith in other people's goodness,
I can carry on.
I have no spirit right now for a religious life.
I only have this tightly bound leather,
Holding together some organs and blood,
Trying to revive my stone heart.
I am bruised, I am broken, but soon
I may find some motivation
To come back from the dead,
From the stone grave located in my chest.
Pray for me!
I quit a show today I didn't totally come
To terms with until recently.
Am I on Stage?
I give up on inspiration - if it will only leave me alone!
Inspiration sourced from others driving me down,
Down a long spiral staircase to the pit.
I'm about to take a dive!
From whom does this sourced knowledge originate
That is in my head?
While You ban torture, I am tortured by day.
Day - the time when the sun is supposed to shine brightly,
And for good cause.
Instead it reveals and reveals and reveals -
No privacy here!
Depart from me, the One, You -
You who summons about frivolous tasks,
Stay gone from my head,
Lord make it so!
And Lord free me from my own thoughts too.
Hear my groans and grunts.
I miss my heart, I hate my mind,
All that seems left is some good lipstick,
And cheap beer.
That's all there is of value in Hell.
Sunshine - shine no more!
Instead leave me alone!
There is no glory in this work.
Finis-en avec moi, mon ange!
(Finish me off, my angel!)
Give me more courage.
Tomorrow is another day...
[one tear finally rolling down cheek]
It's a broken Hallelujah!
I wrote this poem under the influence of suicidal tendencies. I had a moment where all was lost from my faith except two small things: (1) a will to live (kind of), (2) hope in the goodness of others (a.k.a. there is some good in the world); else I had given up completely on beauty, goodness and God. I was over-burdened, often in sheer terror mode, and mentally plagued. The poem started out a prayer for death - to be "finished off by the angels", but is interlaced with glimpses of hope and motivation for something better on the horizon. And then a last stanza that offered a clear choice to death - a cry out to God for courage. My heart softened just enough to get a tear, resulting in what I call a broken Hallelujah (like praising God on your knees in a broken state). And so the will to live triumphs in a poem with suicidal notes. Praise God!
Dear God, I do not wish to see tomorrow and pray for death. But I see an alternative. If you can give me more courage then tomorrow will be another day. If you can soften my heart I may be moved to tears, and my burden may become bearable again. If you can give me peace of mind and send the demons away from me, I may live a long time. Deliver me from the pit of Hell, wake me from my nightmares, and inspire me to notice the small blessings in life. Remove the thoughts and goings-on that torture me by day, and allow me a good reprieve when sleeping by night. Else, send your angels to finish me off. I want to live, and I need good people in my life. My faith is weak, but I can hold onto those two things. Stay beside me around-the-clock as Satan is tempting me this very moment, and I am spiritually weak. I do not deserve Your blessings, but ask humbly on my knees for Your help! Amen.
The author can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.