the cage has its qualities.

there is air.
they bring me water.

but the key is buried under a pile
of madness, regrets, and disillusion.

and in that heap,
no love is found.

after you **** it away too many times,
it retreats away,
and you're never to find it again.

the cage has a poor-quality plastic lock.
and i think i can break it with screams.

but it just screams back.

when i close my eyes,
all i hear is laughter.

everyone is elated
for the hedonist's deserved fate.

and i drink to them,

for my failure goes hand in hand with theirs.