"given up"

I drink of thee now.
I take of thy will.
I lower my brow,
I become your first kill.

I live not much,
I haven't a life.
Looked at as such,
I would waste a good knife.

How I choose death,
is all I have left.
But with my last breath,
my soul is missed.

I wander in void,
I may suffer worse pain.
A mistake I have just made,
an unremovable stain.

In life I may suffer,
though it has it's escapes.
In death I am tortured,
doomed, and opaque.

There is no clear end,
only change, and rebirth.
Some can you mend,
to retain one's true worth.