Death is a bliss, when life itself
Torments and haunts beyond assurance.
This existence that robs my sanguinity,
And thrusts me to a bleakness
So dark, is my peril.
The void that fills my cavity,
Advances into the unknown realm,
So alien, yet so right.
I close my shutters and look in,
And dab my dry face for drips,
So lost, is my faith.
Joy is the absolute, sorrow the other end;
Yes, they were, until this flash,
When only a flicker of emptiness burns,
Inertia sweeps into my being.
Beyond grief, tears, past that end,
My heart dies, its exhausted.
