This sensation is an escapist’s dream.
The absence of one’s worries.
The nonexistence of strife.
The joy born from amnesia.

Although, the path to attaining this peace taints the one who searches for it.
The cold tip of the needle sends a chill throughout my body.
I can fell all of my troubles draining out as happiness surges through my veins.
Other times my relief flies in through my nose.
Sometimes my sanity is wrapped up, all nice and neat.

However, when in this state, better judgement is left for dead.
Then again, it’s not like I know.
Knowledge of happenings while I’m in this state, I have not.
I know only what I’m told when I come to.
“Give it up,” they say.
If only they knew, what they consider addictions are the keys to bliss.

Sought for by all, truly achieved by few.
So many search for years, decades, some even their entire lifetime to find you.
Despite the ever-growing search party, you’ve remained elusive as ever.
The path leading to you is seemingly never straight.

The “wise” say you’re found within, but in a life of struggle that seems to prove false.
After all, the happenings outside of one’s heart sway the happenings inside.
No game is harder than that of life.
Never is the game of life more difficult when one is dealt a bad hand.
And for every king you draw, life holds an ace.

For some this bad hand is the player’s hand never holding money.
Some scratch and claw living paycheck to paycheck.
  Struggling to evade eviction as they watch the rich pop champagne.
Often times food must be forsaken for shelter, water, and lights.

For others this hand is dealt to them in youth.
The eyes of a child should be filled with hope.
Many of those eyes are filled with tears due to constantly being told their existence is unwanted.
Sometimes their eyes instead of being filled with tears are swelled shut.
Their desire to be loved never being satisfied.

Commonly, this hand is dealt by the hand of a loved one going cold.
Seeing the body of one you cherished lying motionless.
Even though you know you’ll see them again, the pain still lingers for a lifetime.

When given cards like these, the player seldom wins the prize of happiness.

A quest born from a great desire deep within.
A hunger much stronger than any edible whim.
It touches everyone even if it isn’t always acknowledged.
The pursuit or lack of pursuit of this powerful urge can change one’s life forever.

It can serve as empowerment to its holder.
The existence of a goal lights a fire in the soul.
This fire drives may to heights unimaginable for many.
The feeling of finally quenching the thirst for achievement is the most satisfying there is.

This blade however, is double edged.
Falling to Earth when reaching for the stars has broken many a man.
Some are haunted by their failure every day until their very last.
This pain becomes a cannibalistic entity, eating away at the person until there is nothing left.

Worse than this, is the regret born from not pursuing the feeling at all.
What could’ve been, those who don’t try know not.
With this burden bearing on their minds, those who fail to try are doomed to mediocrity.
This mediocrity births everlasting regret which in turn births never-ending misery.

These possibilities are the paths of ambition.

Unity seems so far away.
For one reason or another we choose to remain at odds with each other.
Hatred a scar that can seemingly not be healed.
A cancer with so many different causes a cure is impossible.

The race into which one is born has long been a cause for disdain.
Why can something uncontrollable cause a person so much pain?
Generations raised to bear prejudice.
To this day it is for that cause that many still die.

Next to, or rather above lies higher power.
The god or gods one worships has led to many a war.
All believing the others are wrong, none choosing the path of acceptance.
Destined for hell are we all if this pattern continues.

Ironic is hating someone because of who they choose to love.
Yet this reason for hatred is more prevalent than ever.
Even if we all loved the same way it would still be subjective.
Futile as it is, we still choose to squabble over it.

These vices keep us from harmony.
Until we can get past these, division shall persist.

I wish I could go back.
The things I’d change are too many to count.
But time waits for no one.
Now it’s far too late for someone like me.

Frustration born from my own discontent turned me into a different person.
My anger became a fire burning all who tried to come close.
In misdirected rage I lashed out at those trying to aid me in my struggles.
Pain, failure, and loss birthed a demon within me.

I wish I could say sorry to those I hurt.
I wish I could mend the hearts I’ve broken
These sentiments now mean nothing.
My repentance has come far too late.

Now I feel the flames searing my skin.
My body is slowly turning to ashes.
I can barely open my eyes but I manage.
The eyes of Satan, my last sight.
They penetrate my soul as he gazes at me from behind hell’s gates.

To whomever reads this, I never wanted it to end like this.
I’m sorry to any who may be disappointed; however this is the end of my journey.
Weary from the treacherous path of life in this world I have grown.
No longer shall I suffer the excruciating pain of being bound to this Earth.

The chase to my dreams was truly a path to nowhere.
I toiled like a slave, scratching and clawing to climb the ladder.
No matter my attempts, at the bottom I remained.
Not a dime to my name nor accomplishments to show, it set in that I would be nothing.

My search for love marred by constant betrayal.
Time after time I would be the victim of infidelity.
Other times it was simply that none could accept me unless I became a parody of myself.
Rose after rose left me with nothing but a hand ****** and covered in thorns.

Through the constant suffering there was always one I could confide in.
In his sleep, the Reaper collected his soul.
With none to trust and nothing to believe in, my morality began to fade.
No longer did I care for anyone in this world; I just wanted everything to burn.

My resilience at this point nonexistent.
No longer was my desire to live.
So I say goodbye to this cruel world.
As I heard the gun pop, I accepted the friendship of the Reaper.

The best friend I ever had.
A loyal comrade, it was us against the world.
Our dreams existed intertwined as we ran towards the future.
Suddenly, it all ended.

The news brought me to tears.
Every memory we shared flashed before my eyes.
Frolicking as children, youthful mischief, drunken laughter, and secrets confided.
I see it all again through glassy eyes.

My body shook uncontrollably as tears flowed down my face.
I see him floating when I lie awake at night; I hear his voice when I’m all alone.
To my dismay, these are merely wishful illusions.
It feels as though I am being taunted by my own mind.

The final goodbye cripples me.
It is indeed his body but it doesn’t feel nearly the same.
I stare at my tears as they fall to his casket.
My best friend, my one true confidant, an undeserving soul stolen by the Reaper.