I jumped off a cliff and survived.
I stepped into the fire and came out alive.
No matter how hard I tried,
‘The Fates’ held the strings of my life.
Knotted around their needles so tight
And the bladders of my life's oxygen didn't seem to die.
It later dawned on me that it's the
Handwriting on my walls that will decide.
For, if it's not yet time for the ferryman
To row me off from the living world
Across the rivers Styx and Acheron,
Then, I still have a purpose
And I still have shedloads of time
To stay alive and shine
And understand there's no need for suicide.