Misery haunts me like a vengeful lover’s phantom
Grey clouds of solitude drench me with the rain of cold silence.
The thunder startles my vision with its sudden piercing vibrancy,
but the accompanying sound is inaudible to my ears.
Perhaps the deafening screams of my soul have rendered them useless.

Misery bites into my flesh like a famished Hellhound
the crimson of unrequited love bathes it mercilessly.
Its dagger like fangs bite into my calf,
but the accompanying feeling of pain on my skin is nonexistent.
Perhaps the innumerable pinpricks inflicted by words have rendered it numb.

Misery paints me like a mournful artist,
into the monochromatic shades of abandonment.
The slicing strokes of his brushes, highlight crimson suffering,
but the accompanying cries of bitter pain are not possessed by my throat.
Perhaps the incessant demands of respite made by it have rendered it sore for an eternity.

Misery slithers inside my nostrils like a toxic repulsive snake.
Trails of blue betrayal are left by its slimy flesh while it travels to my lungs.
Its venom covers my nerves in the burning sensation of ridicule,
But the accompanying smell of approaching death seems absent
Perhaps the putrid smell of my burning conscience has rendered my senses immune.