What despair, this bleak existence causes
In pain and suffering unending
With no escape and no forbearance
How does one cope with immortality
And the inability to cease
What recourse, as empathy bleeds
From every attempted connection
Lost or denied, broken or abandoned
Like the innocence of childhood
As hope fades into hurt and love turns to ash
And the taste of dust consumes all
What divine punishment is this
What curse is laid upon the ******
To cause such immeasurable torment
Rage at the chains that bind life and soul to flesh and bone
Who holds the lit flame to burn the world to the ground
Or to cast light onto the blighted and reviled
If there is no finality and no surcease
When does time become irrelevant
As seconds and epochs are ones in the same
Is there no why, no how
To combat such strife
To bear conflict to the oppression of reality
Is a fools errand, a childish whimsy
Beaten down and shattered upon the indifferent earth
No warmth can ward off the chill of eternity
Peace, serenity, passion, and ambition are lies
Told to distract the youth from
The truth of what is to come
Falsehoods and fabrications woven
Into tapestries of feigned glory and imagined pride
As the stars flicker and sniff out
Does ever the watcher still ache
For what was and what could have been
Know now that this neither fate nor destiny
It just is, as the lonely tide washes away
All that was known and all that was
Until all that remains is solitude and tears
That never fall and never leak
They might even be a myth
For none, but one, will ever know the truth
Remorse and fear long since missing
Where does infinity begin to lose meaning
The vessel, now empty, floats on currents invisible
No attachment lies unbroken
As inevitable betrayals follow the pale rider
And the boatman beckons all, save for the solitary figure
Trapped and bound to witness beyond the end of all things
Can this pact not be negated, is it profane to desire escape
No answer can be found, for the question is, like all else
Meaningless
As sanity collapses, like a wave upon the shore
As breath is stolen by the void
Is the weight of apathy a burden or a boon
Torturous promises lay rent asunder
And the towering rise of once quenched thirst for joy topples
Can emptiness be it's own reward

Oh these days, living in a caricatures ink,
Where extremes become normal each day,
I turn on the TV and can’t help but think,
It seems Archie Bunker has gotten his way.
Crowing “Those were the days” with ironic flourishes,
An anti-hero, imperfect, a misguided clown,
Meant to shine light on our cultural skirmishes,
Not to be held up as the toast of the town.
The cult of ignorance has built a platform
On top of our lizard brain prejudice fears.
Sneering “pass the buck” if you fail to perform,
“Idolize my fame, and villainize your peers.
Pay no attention to evidence you see,
And whatever you do, just don’t blame me.”

The town is new,
its buildings washed in grey.
The streets are clean,
it's peaceful here—
but its too quiet.

Everything here is bleak,
so colorless, drained of thought.
The people stay inside,
I can't hear them smiling,
can't see them laughing.

Today, the streets are busy,
its a funeral march of faces
they move in one direction,
headed to the same place,
but they don't go together.

They're all going somewhere.
to do something unimportant.

They built another building,
big and grey, empty of laughter.
People act out scenes that once felt funny,
but they act only for the camera,
they only laugh for the camera.

No one looks up at the sky.
there's nothing there anymore—
just thin sheets of grey.
No gold, no silver,
even when the sun sinks.

I still see gold and silver,
hidden somewhere behind the clouds.
but this town stays grey.

I reach for my brush,
longing to paint something bright.
But each stroke fades—
the colors turn to ash,
grey bleeding into my hands.

I hate this town.

Starless sky and crestfallen clouds
has been weeping for days.

Gale as bleak as a sad symphony
passing through every now and then.

As the rain echoes in her hueless
room, she lays still with no  purpose.

Under the comforter, under dressed.
Coziest dreams, waiting to be dreamt.

Her cluttered mind slowly unraveling
as the wrathful sky kept on bellowing.

As each thoughts withdrew one by one,
She slowly felt like drifting away.

Tranquilizing rhythm of rain-
Natures lullaby.

see, when I was a kid, people called me bright
I considered them right, kept my goals in sight
by 20, I realized life was going to be a long fight
the kid with a bright future has lost all his might

lost my footing one day and never recovered
I could blame forced isolation, but I was the one
who kicked up the dirt, the one who threw away his shot
who tried to put the blame on others when he fell short

I was supposed to rule the world, make it my own
stand on top of a cliff, the world upon my feet
but I fell before I reached the peak,
I was never even in sight of the throne

see, the thing about falling off a cliff
is you know you're falling
but how do you stop the tumbling?
my God, this life's numbing.