The frigid canvas brings ardor,
Why does it do so?
A warm shower feels cold,
Why does it feel so?
The night zephyr carries comfort,
Why does it appear so?
Why ?
Unprejudiced and savage,
Inclusive and gentle,
Crepuscule that binds,
Employing shackles known as Reality.
Whose reality ?
Perhaps this is not reality, but an illusion.
An illusion conjured to bring comfort in pain,
A dissonance it brings to one's soul..
The illusionary dissonance known as darkness.
Indulge if you must,
Alas beware of the gloom,
For the opium that it is,
Eternal slumber awaits,
Purgatory that is darkness.
