A Lonely Overture

Along the cobblestone I wander, aimless and jaded.

Long is the night, its forbidding black oblivion stretching on into eternity but for the meek     and struggling rays of moonlight that dash furtively through the haunted trees.

On and on I trip and I stumble as my thoughts collide,

Never ceasing to doubt my intuition, to question whether the darkness of the hour is     working a spell on me, luring me to destruction.

Eclipse of day, of joy, follows me like a vulture on the heels of my shadow.

Lulling optimism escapes me, forever banished from my mind by a torrential storm of     self-loathing.

You -- you mere human, could never know such hell.

Oh how asinine my hope to overcome the madness and to have delighted in my     momentary hour of shining!

Vibrant once was I, alive with compassion and generosity, bolstered by my faith in the     inherent goodness of others and in worldly forces to orchestrate my existence     like a melodic symphony.

Elastic like a rubber tie, I would rebuff any threat to my complacency with a smile and a     light chuckle.

Regrettably, I let my guard down; I was stabbed from behind, blind-sided and crushed.

The whisper and howl of the wind as it whishes through the arid tracts of grass taunts     me like a jackal of the night, snickering at my misery.

Under the burden of lonesomeness I cannot budge; forlorn and somber I wander on.

Resolute in my demeanor, I draw my curmudgeonly self out of the depths of my doom     and resolve to trod the earth a sullen zombie,

Eternally seeking the threshhold bridging humanity and monstrosity in hope that my     candor might allow me to pass through.