He revels in festivity.
He loves evil and creativity.

The pleasure of eternal damnation.
To live life with condemnation.

The acceptance of one's own nature .
To take life for a misadventure.

Why am I so lost ?
In an endless fog of doubt.
Reach and hear me out.

She sold her beauty on a bed.
She would stare and hold herself.
Her breath was warm and red.
Her room had mirrors and a shelf.

Sunrise to sunset.
I miss every lonely star.
They are far yet close.

I sat on a chair.
But fell as l didn't care.

Placed my face on the seat.
Felt the moisture and heat .

I hurled it across the room.
Beat it with a wooden broom .

Paced and ran circles around.
Felt dizzy and fell on the ground.

Fate is to us as seeds are to trees.
We arrive in chains and leave with guilt.

As time stretches and our life shortens.
We barely exist to see our own demise.

All pleasures of life seem void.
Life's burden seems needless.

Consolation takes countless forms.
Mankind parts and each to his own.