Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2010

Waking The Fallen (2003) "I Won't See You Tonight Part 2"

[reprinted as written by Avenged Sevenfold]
As performed by A7X

Come back to me, this is unconceivable
Breaking apart the ones you love
Hate runs deep for what you've done to us
Left alone through suicide...suicide

I just want to die, take away my life
lay by your side, please:.

Look at my face you pierce with a blank stare
No dream could prepare a heart for a lifeless friend.
He's gone. Nothing will take back time.
I need him back, but nothing will take back time.
(take back time)

I can see just fine, you in my life,
there by my side as it starts to fade
I know this can't be right, stuck in a dream
a nightmare full of sorrow
Nightmare - full of pain

I look back and see the twisted road
Best friends and despair took its toll
Take away

You can't be replaced
I'm left alone with you
in spirit and the words
you wrote to me

Sorrow, sank deep inside my blood
all the ones around me, I cared for
and most of all I loved
but I can't see myself that way
please don't forget me
or cry while I'm away


The heart of this poem, after the screams of impotent rage, of enraged grief, horror and the growing realization of what's happened, is the quiet inner mourning

You can't be replaced
I'm left alone with you
in spirit and the words
you wrote to me


For the person staring at the bottles of perscription drugs, or the glint of the razor, or the swirling waves so far beneath the bridge, standing on the ledge watching the ants of cars and people scurry back and forth in the distance, watching the rope hang softly from the hand that holds it...feeling such depths of suffering and an almost elated anticipation of peace just a few moments away, if only I swallow these pills, or cut these wrists, or take two small steps off this precipice, or kick this chair away....

It seems a distant prospect to think of what will be left behind, the train wreck of grief and devastation that everyone else will endure as they try to make sense of suicide.

The hope for relief seems to overshadow any love, any sense of faithfulness on the part of the one contemplating taking his or her own life. But underneath that hypnotic craving for peace is also anger, and suicide is the ultimate take-back, the ultimate last word.

How do you pick up the pieces? How do you get beyond the heavy load of guilt -- if only you had said more, or done more, or been there for this person during those crucial last moments? If only your love had been stronger, if only...

Look at my face you pierce with a blank stare
No dream could prepare a heart for a lifeless friend.
He's gone. Nothing will take back time.
I need him back, but nothing will take back time.


And therein lies the key. King David knew what it was to lose someone to death -- to meaningless death. His soul brother, the friend of his heart, two spirits woven into one, had died in a battle that everyone knew was doomed. But King Saul, who later fell on his own sword when he knew the battle was lost, was obdurate. A man of faithfulness, Jonathan fought by his father's side, knowing he would die that day.

David had to move on. He was king. The nation looked to him for leadership on that tragic day. Heavy with grief, the king wrote a warrior's dirge for his beloved friend. That experience would prepare him for an even more painful wrestling with death years later.

King David's love child lay sick and dying and he was desolate. He stopped eating, he stopped bathing, he stopped being king of his country. Instead, day and night, he lay in a miserable heap, begging God to spare the baby's life. He was just a tiny innocent soul. It was not his fault that he had been conceived in sin.

But God gathered the little one to Himself, taking him back only days after he had been born.

What could the stricken king do? Wearily he pushed himself up off the ground, and went to the table to break his fast. Then he washed himself, put back on his robe and crown, and went out to face his country which needed him.

What can you and I do when someone else betrays us? Because yes, that's what suicide is, the ultimate betrayal of love and life. We mourn, and then we move forward in life. We stop the rings of pain from getting wider by choosing life, and choosing love, again. King David comforted his wife, and she bore another son. That son became Israel's wealthiest and wisest king.

If this post got you to thinking, please leave a comment and join the conversation

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Waking The Fallen (2003) "I Won't See You Tonight Part I"

[reprinted as written by Avenged Sevenfold]
As performed by A7X live; or for a crisper rendition

Cry alone, I've gone away
No more nights, no more pain
I've gone alone, took all my strength
But I've made the change,
I won't see you tonight

Sorrow, sank deep inside my blood
all the ones around me,
I cared for and loved

It all built up, inside of me
A place so dark, so cold,
I had to set me free
Don't mourn for me,
you're not the one
to place the blame
As bottles called my name,
I won't see you tonight

Sorrow, sank deep inside my blood
all the ones around me,
I cared for and loved
most of all I loved
but I can't see myself that way
please don't forget me
or cry while I'm away

Cry alone, I've gone away
No more nights, no more pain
I've gone alone, took all my strength
But I've made the change,
I won't see you tonight

So far away, I'm gone.
Please don't follow me tonight.
And while I'm gone,
everything will be alright.

No more breath inside
Essence left my heart tonight (x2)


Some know this pain that saturates the soul, a sense of sorrow so complete that it seems only death can offer relief. Torture becomes peace, agony turns into tranquility, thinking that as life ebbs, so does unbearable suffering.

Five hundred years ago Martin Luther gathered a young boy in his arms who had hung himself and vowed to the boy's parents that he would be buried in holy ground ~ something the church, at that time, denied to suicides. "The devil murdered this boy," Luther cried out to everyone gathered around, as he slammed his shovel into the ground, digging the boy's grave.

Do you think God doesn't know the depths of despair in this song? Do you think He doesn't understand the heavy waves of hopelessness sweeping over the despondent one, or the quiet desparation of the soul that feels like silent drowning? Among some such desolation is called the dark night of the soul.

Jesus knew what it was to cry tears of anguish, to be utterly alone, to be abandoned, betrayed, to seem a complete failure.

It's so hard to get perspective when a person is inside such intense misery. But maybe this will help:

Godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death

“God, please get me through this suffering.” Unfortunately there is no short and tidy answer for why you are suffering. There is no formula for feeling better. Sometimes the ready made phrases we say to each other, when we mean well, actually make things seem worse –

“I know just what you’re going through” sounds empty sometimes, when what you’re going through is devastating. “Don’t worry, it’s all for the best” doesn’t help when it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. “It’s God’s will” makes you want to feel angry and bitter towards God, and “You’ve got to stop crying and start living again” doesn’t sound encouraging, it sounds kind of heartless, like there’s a statute of limitations on hurting.

Though all these things may be true, they just don’t help when you’re experiencing emotional agony. When you’ve been in a car accident, you don’t need your doctor to explain to you why you’re bleeding everywhere, or to assure you that you won’t miss that arm after a while. You need your doctor to stop the bleeding, sew you up and help you heal.

God understands. Very often the last thing God will do when you and I are suffering is to explain the reasons why we’re suffering. That’s something He saves for later, sometimes much later. What He will always do, however, is help us to endure the terrible pain, and make it through in one piece.

God says yes to all who come to Him for help and comfort, when they are in the middle of something hard. He may not stop the suffering, or prevent it from happening in the first place, or alleviate the situation in any way. This maybe is one of the biggest stumbling blocks to faith there is, but you and I need to face it head on – God allows a lot of terrible things to happen. Just look what happened to our Lord Jesus Christ. He knew very well the pain He was about to suffer, and prayed “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup be taken away from Me.” At the eleventh hour, the Son pleased with the Father. But He also added “Yet not as I will, but as You will.”

No matter what kind of suffering you have to endure, God will give you a way through it. Not a way out of suffering itself, but out of the hopelessness that suffering often leads you to. The apostle Paul said God will not let you be tested beyond your strength. With your trial, He will also provide you with a means of escape, so that you will be able to endure it (1 Cor 10:13)

The Father sent His son an angel to help Him. God will also help you, and provide for you, to console you, help you and fortify you through whatever you are going through right now.

Death and suffering are not a normal part of life. They may be facts of life, but they are not “good” or “normal” in any way. Something went terribly wrong at the beginning of human history. Life was never meant to be this way, but because of what happened in the Garden of Eden, you and I suffer today.

But God, in the Lord Jesus Christ, suffered, too. He knows, intimately, what it’s like to experience what you’re experiencing, and because of the cross, He can make His power available to you, and to me. When you say “God, please get me through this suffering” He will actually walk with you through the pain and get you to the other side.

If this post got you to thinking, please leave a comment and join the conversation