The house is quiet again

As I sit awake, in the dark, in pain

Reviewing and recalling how I came to this space

Feeling low, finding reasons, looking a way to erase

My mind races and rolls in constant turmoil

Whilst I contemplate and yet still recoil

Too much guilt and shameful behaviour

And as yet, no help or (practical) saviour

Cold gunmetal soothes my forehead

As I contemplate the aftermath of bloodshed

Do I have the balls, or am I a coward

One more casualty left dis-empowered.