I'm a tragedian, but only in real life.
My life is a tragedy
One bye one tempestuous waves cone to swallow me up
Massive earthquakes shake me down to my bones
Infectious and deadly diseases enter my body and slowly but surely killing me
Every time that happens I end up in rock-bottom
Where everything's hopeless and scary
But rock-bottom might be a good foundation to start again?  A good foothold to fight all of those disastrous calamities?  A good starting point?
A starting point to start all over again from scratch... and then what??!after giving myself some positive methinks and then once again those calamities then again come uninvited in my house wrecking and destroying everything I've worked *******?? To start again from rock-bottom and then giving my self some positive crap to repeat the cycle anew?  I'm not some Aleck
But a teensy butterfly of hope spreads its wings and flies
I'll be forced again to repeat the cycle
This agonizing, ugly, tiring and dumb cycle
I really am a tragedian one who plays in tragic roles.

When I lay on my bed
Everything goes dark
It's like my bed is ******* me into the deep abyss
Ahhhh, my soul trembles
Pathetic, I say
The sleepiness that I have leaves me as soon as I try to sleep
One by one the mistakes in my past haunt me
Slowly brute and cruel thoughts violate me
This hopelessness and deep sadness I feel
When will it end?
When will it free me from its terror
When will I sleep peacefully with a smile on my face, a carefree thought, and an untroubled soul?
When will it stop playing with me? When my heart is shattered to a million pieces? no? When my soul is black?
Will it claim my life?  Like a thief in the night?
I hope not.

If you want to be me you have to brace yourself in being bereft
If you want to be me you have to be careworn
If you dream of being me then you have to **** your dreams first
If you dream of being me, you have to abandon yourself
If you love to be me then you need to hate yourself first
If you love me then you need to be encumbered
If you desire to be me,  then you have to get used to perfidiousness
If you desire to be me, you have to be a penultimate
You have to be ready in being ostracized for your idiosyncrasies
You have to be saxicolous
But, do remember nobody,  would ever yearn for you, want you and desire for you
Excogitate,  because you might regret it, forever.
It might be the last thing you'll do.