pain is real
misery is optional
peace is absence of conflict
life is a pleasant windstorm
for the lucky few

Night, drugstore, the street, the lantern,
The meaningless and pallid light,
May you live some years hereafter,
All be the same, no ‘scape from blight

You die - commence another potter,
And everything the same alright:
The chilling ripple of the water,
The Street ,the drugstore, lantern, night

There's terrors in this
dark room we call home,
but when we turn on the lights
we're just two people looking
through
fun house mirrors.

I am Destroyer of the World,
I am the Death itself, behold
My deeds and dread ye, common mortals,
While looking at you all I chortle
In disdain, contempt and  scorn
And with the teeth of ye adorn
my ******-crimson garment I
While to your children lullaby
You, Mother, sing
to lull them to their sleep
At night, o night, o night  the very last,
And matters not how hard you grasp
The last of threads of the world’s canvas,
But End is nigh of yours, alas;
So clench your hands in your last prayer
As fractures of the world last layer

If Santa can wrap happiness
I would tuck myself along with my misery

Hoping it will be my last  messy night
Only to find out happiness cannot be wrapped in colorful papers

But in the arms of everyone you wished they were with you
In front of a cold fireplace