and everything is engulfed by the maudlin night
Juxtapose the brooding sorrows with the searing agony of silence
shutting my eyes, wishing not for the departure of pain
but for the capacity to drown it in its own poison
let these asphyxiating times breed not lamentations or self-inflicted pity
but inspirations sprung forth from mental wrist-slashing
be the battle scars to call my own

i need some sleep
perhaps then it will go away