Is there an end?

I find it hard to breathe today,
Cause I have run so far away,
Still am running endlessly,
They said "you’ll find the light at the end of the tunnel",
But that seems like a lie.
By "end of the tunnel" did they mean death?
If yes that might be true.
But if we end it all on our own,
Then we would be cast-out,
Even our dead-body would be thrown away,
Like you never really belonged anywhere,
To no religion,
Community,
Family,
Or friends.
Everyone smiles,
Backstab is all they do.
People ignore,
And flaunt their social media-lie of a life,
Ah the perfect life,
Where everyone is dear and near,
Love sprouting from comments and likes,
But truth,
Those babies are bitter,
Born out of nowhere,
And everywhere.
They scream at you from time to time,
Alteast if you are a person looking for a silver of truth in everything.
We are let down by people,
Always people.

As I place my body to rest,
Today,
And every single day,
I hope a death thats honourable,
Thats easy,
A death that looks like sleep on my face,
With a perfect calm,
And no wrinkles of hate,
All the pain thats kept locked away,
Will be buried with me.
Until the sand absorbs it from me.
Sand never sticks until its wet,
Because I think its got too much pain of many dead over the years,
That until its muddled,
And confused,
It never pass on the pain to anybody.
Cause its not a human,
Only human,
Living,
Breathing,
Backstabing,
Hateful creatures,
Can spread it so comfortably onto others.