the consequence of anticipating the return of happier days

i hide my depression behind a veil
the cloth is made out of a material
so comfortable that it's near impossible
to return to the realm of colourful beauty.

before i discovered just how soothing bliss
could be i found hope hidden in her kiss.
once she pressed her soft, sweaty flesh
against mine i knew that all my previous
efforts had been in vain, wasted attempts.

life has always seemed a tad to tedious
for me to everdevelop any lasting hopes.
i decided to bury my heart with no witness.
i spread its ashes across all the houses
that housed all the mistress's& ladies
who were responsible for my crippling blues.

i know now it was done with fierce haste;
but what's done is done, so what's the sense
in praying i'll ever be capable of changes?
all i do now is ask for her acceptance.
if i had waited to hear a voice of reason
beckoning me to leave the ledge i'm clinginging
onto; because i see no logical solution
to remain exisisting, can't name just one reason
why i should continue on with my breathing.

occasionally i see glimpses of bright
light off in the distance; and still doubt
is the course i sail when on auto pilot.
our souls, i remember being taught,
are made to grow each time a difficult
task is conquered; but what is it that
happens when nothing is changed?

it's not that i am unwilling to reopen
my heart again; cos i'm even willing
to charge general admission,
but the fact that the feature presentation
isn't something that draws attention.
i'm kind of like a movie that you thought
would be something worth checking out.

the world i see in my head is a giant sea
and i float all alone down the isle
of denial; i can't fathom the difficulty
in explaining what made me feel this way.
it's mostly cause beauty reminds me
we all die one day; in blonde hair i see
mortality approaching, the reaper
maakes all us hutlers look like amature's.