Being sad and depressed

Story about the death of a man

The day the earth stood in it's place,
The game of life, a fickle race.
A man can bare his weight of sin
only as long as he's safe within.
But those who know the pain he feels
Know you can't just click your heels,
And every doubt he's had till now
Doesn't matter at his final bow.

In a coffin flying high,
He travels from the place he'd die.
To the top a crumbling tower,
"This place," he thinks, "my final hour."
Safety calls him to his fate.
A reaper grim calls to this date.
Up the stairs his final climb,
No one below to stop this crime.

At the top his skin is cut,
Winds like ribbons, to stop his strut.
At the place the earth scrapes sky,
He will jump but can not fly.
One last step to seal his fate
And land him at the final gate.
Those below find red mist,
The sky he sought, the earth he kissed.