Everything Escapes

Life is but an everlasting fixture of false hope.

I have ceased to exist,my soul but wholly perished.

Nothing gets in, but everything escapes.

My life is a meaningless array of hatred, a bookshelf of wasted lessons and a slag heap of diminished hope.

So I continue to wear this mere mask of bliss, fooling everyone into those fake confines, that mere desire of

happiness, of which are not within the frames of sanity.

So let me go, do not be misguided by right and wrong, after all, who is to say what sets them apart?

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