Night time falls slowly around the corners of my eye
though the golden ball as it oft does
has taken its place
in the seats of the sky.
The white of laughter around me becomes grey;
the juice of food just turned sour
as I helplessly dance
to the sad tunes corrupted me plays.
My world just got smaller,
reduced to a mere depressing pillow, bed-sheet,
and that thing I lie on…
Bags of chemicals on a nearby table
wink at me the way a harlot does;
with a promise to save me from the effects
of the note the ‘flying demons that suck’ left behind.
But this same promise it made before,
why should I think this would be the last?
The white of laughter and the sweat of activity
unabated, continue around me.
Likewise the world does not pause to pity
corrupted me which it just rejected,
because it really is just one big train
going round and round;
cursed with a continuous chain of sickness and health;
joy and tears,
life and death.
Hopefully, I too will soon return
to my own side of the track,
of this train,
and course continuously the best way I can
till the bus, corrupted me in which I commute
stops and ushers me out
when I lie down to sleep…forever