Suicidal

The thoughts come over and over again The feeling of failure The smiles are all silhouettes The pain artistically allures my senses I crave peace, But even my cravings are illusions I feel like i am carrying the weight of the world with my feeble arms, I'm no Atlas These days happiness feels so expensive My heart is Gothic without any enigmatic mystical powers A sorcerer without power, a referee without whitsle, Every day i die all over again, a shadow of myself. These days i wanna turn from the light, maybe give in to the urge and embrace the darkness, open the door to the demons I once tried to keep at bay. This time after the night, I would have been demoted from the present into the past. Maybe changing every 'is' to 'was' before my topic, isn't so bad after all. Life is Good but Death is Beautiful. Sean Kelz 2018