From the Soul-Well: 19

Missing the love I once had for life.
Wishing my nightmares were gone.
Hoping life were kinder in strife.
Lamenting the losses unwon.
Believing existence existed in vain.
Defying conventional minds.
Reliving it over and over again.
Finally closing the blinds
to a world that has festered
in it's own lies and betrayal.
Once more I have played the jester,
Yet jest only of wounds which are fatal.
Arisen I have only to fall once more
In the end it is I who I truly abhor.