Midnight Struggles

How illogical is it to be trapped in your own mind

as realising there lies yourself

A pessimistic wishful thinker hoping for a bright plot twist

Haunted by the truth of it all

Nothing is the answer to everything

I am yet too ignorant to be able to reconcile
my feelings with my thoughts

To be alive is a concept of many nuances

I could never simply accept reality as it’s presented to be

The drive to make sense of my being

Is most likely to be my downfall

Even in a moment of a delusive certainty I could sense it

Screaming words in the back of my head 

Words that I haven’t dared to believe until they were too close to scorn

If we must be stuck in this dreadful journey

What is of us without hope? 

Who could we be without believing in the implausible?

I count my days in a paradoxical clock

The melancholic sound of my despair as my existence fades away

serves to reminisce the fact that I am liable to my own mournfulness 

Our worthlessness is what refrains me from reaching contentment 

So I endure the rest of my life seeking to fathom 

how one can sustain sanity in a vicinity of such treacherous nature