I find the pains in my stony heart to be something to find beauty in.  The fires of the home I once loved and the ashes that laid onto the ground.  The tortured screams of the world which I hate so much.  This is the muse, the world in my mind and the love that burns behind my glassy eyes. The art in me disappears when a smile graces my face.  I am a dying artist and the stillness in my imagination is like a quaking mountain.

The temple of my mind that has light lays in the land of sadness.  All my desires are destroyed in a beautiful rage and swallowed up in a sea of woe.  I want to see your hate and I want to love you in your anger.  That is what my temptation is.  I love the winter memories and all its loss.  My mind hungers for pain.  To some, the suffering is a devil on their back but it is my angel with a guiding path.  This is the empire I have made for myself and the land in which I shall dwell.  It is a crumbling palace and the light of joy shines through.  Its countrysides are endless. Oh, what a double-edged sword is my muse.

Sorrow, you leave me questioning do I need you or should I regret ever meeting you.

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