Mockery

I lay down bedazzled by the irony of life,
Being stabbed at by a jagged knife,
Nursing and licking the wounds,
Receding into my newly build cocoon.

My voice has failed me, a mute,
My soul no longer yearns the truth,
My mind feels restless, empty,
A thing of the past, its beauty.

My ears have I turned off, deaf,
My heart of all emotion bereft,
Blinded by the light of one's pride,
How can I just take everything in stride?

A rage boils over, spews fire
The mind is unsettled, peace desires,
But a slave to human urge,
It just feels like another purge.

There is no loneliness in this time low,
My trusted aides, my heart they know,
By my side they are, the way they show,
At a time when most of the world is a foe

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