Committed to Darkness

[Photo from http://www.cartoondrawings.net/angels/angels-male.html]
[Poem from the Voice of Dementia collection 2005-2006]

There is a belonging in the dark labyrinth,
In lurking dreads and dooms, each moment.
Amongst a clash between demons and angels,
Gloom and melancholy listed in the annals.
A dead silence shrieks at its might,
No ear in proximity to hear its plight.
The dark is think, the sun seems dead,
A thorny nest for a comfy bed.

How can one dare to step out?
Of the melancholy, of self-doubt?
How can one dream, dreams of love?
Of a guardian angel from heavens above?
How can one think that a solo stand,
Would be coupled by another in a lifeless land?
How can one dream that destiny,
Can take a break from melancholy?
How can dreams be of butterflies?
When every existence is stamped with treachery,
With lies.

How can one cross the golden gate?
When the heart is full of meaningless hate?
It is a prey to fate's illusion,
Of the social chaos, the mental confusion.

There's a light at the end of the tunnel they say,
A way to escape, a way to be freed.
But there is the truth, the obvious decree,
Turn around! Do not pay heed!
Some are destined to weep, destined to bleed.
Some are dark, Gothic, sanely blind,
To the meaningless joys of man and his kind.
They tear their gaze from the treacherous light,
That threatens to betray, and blind with full might.
They stab themselves with the dagger of reality,
Realize the fraud, the treachery.
Joy is a battle that ends in loss,
Gifts you pain, and an insincere laugh.