THESE are the clouds about the fallen sun,
The majesty that shuts his burning eye:
The weak lay hand on what the strong has done,
Till that be tumbled that was lifted high
And discord follow upon unison,
And all things at one common level lie.
And therefore, friend, if your great race were run
And these things came, So much the more thereby
Have you made greatness your companion,
Although it be for children that you sigh:
These are the clouds about the fallen sun,
The majesty that shuts his burning eye.

You know the saying "misery loves company"? Well I disagree.  Misery isolates. Misery isolates itself in the vague darkness of aganizing memories and broken dreams. Misery is a cold being, comforting to some, and a burden for others. It comes to you when you have found all the peices. It acts like a solvent and dissolves the glue that holds your life together. It breaks apart friendships and dissasembles the "good life" you once thought you had. The feeling of misery is like a cold shiver down your spine, it makes its presence known. The face of misery it that of a nightmsre that wakes you up at night with cold sweats. I know the face of misery, and it knows me.