The Desperate Struggle

If my life has to be honored,
then why do I die day after day?If my questions are not answered,
then who says I will not fly away?
I want to die,
to get away from this wretched place!
What muscle will I not apply,
To turn my death into a quick pace?
God has seen my tiring struggle for death,
Every time I try to drown,
He makes me come up for breath.
He hates my attempted flight to my hometown.
What muscle will I not apply,To create my own death?
There are some people who would say,
that I am incapable of suicide,
but I'll convey,
That I have dyed.
What muscle will I not apply,
To make my body decay?
I am in need of a knife,
but my kitchen has none 'cause He took them,
God and I have a strife,
to Hell, I will be condemned.
What muscle will I not apply,To turn into a mere image of a soul?
I tried to trick God today,
but He is smarter than I thought,
He said that I would never decay.
I lied about what I sought.
I told Him I wanted a knife,
but to cut bread.
He said that he knew everything in my life.
What muscle will I not apply,To take my being away from this dread?
I am starting to go crazy,
this is taking too long.
My suicidal thoughts are going hazy,
I try hard to be strong,
to keep from forgetting those simply sweet thoughts.
What muscle will I not apply,
to make my veins collide with those poisonous shots.
I have finally won,
it is over.
I am done,
I took off my armor,
and then I got shot.
God thinks it is a bummer,
He is distraught,
I am not.
What muscle did I not apply,
To finally die?