Crippled Be Those That Feel

Happiness is fleeting. Love is cruel. Wings, slowly tearing away from their rightful place. Every tug methodically timed to cause optimal agony. Allowing just enough time for healing to begin. Ensuring every new wound is experienced through the turmoil of the previous. Halo, once hovering high and lighting up the night. Now tires and slopes without desire. Strangely finding comfort within the darkness. Ready to welcome constant nothing in lue of shining. Eyes, only holding color for habits sake. Sharp as a hawks gaze jaded into useless vision. Why hold back the liquid vail that needs to fall. Seeing nothing as it is and everything not at all. Hate is lonely. Death is mercy!