such a beautiful disaster,
incognito bliss,
that is the blanket of dispair,
the comfort in sadness.

such a destructive beauty,
hidden wretchedness,
the white mask of joy,
the shell of happiness.

such an obsequious thought,
lethargic hope,
of agreeing eyes,
a level slope.

such a distorted wish,
of a mental nude,
the absence of bewilderment,
the abundance of beautitude.

but madness always swells,
with and over time,
and in a beautifully disasterous way,
i guess i feel sublime.