Death, where is your sting?

I thought about death twice today

And for once I did not care

It served as a means to an end

To end myself from the pain

The rage that ran through my head

I have a stash tucked away

To die, I would mean it

Because the zeal to see

Stood against my will to kill

The dream to behold my maker

Enoch, how did you do it

I mean disappear

You know you are lucky right

You got to see your maker

Without much fright

So I will make it short

Reservations ignored

Take me out of this drought

Cos without a doubt

I am on the wrong route