A pitiful tune

This climactic edge of isolation! 
Where madness cannot be contained in the prelude. Insisting on suffocating every verse. 
How woe-some a place, beckoning for god and vehemently damming the devil.
All the while, he plays that wonderfully odious tune.
I beg for sunlight and adamantly insist for rain
For pleasure and pain are merely obstacles in the path of inoperable righteousness.
Whereas I, remain on the cliff.
This maddening precipice is my sole contender, my shadow has grown bored. 
In the breath of another contradiction, 
How wander-less is my spiteful virtue, 
Damning the shadows and turning off the light. 
 I believe it’s to blame for my picking off petals and forgetting it too shall wither all alone. 
Why I deny dreams are my sole contender, in the face of such life, I remain patient and steadfast in my delusionary delights. 
A visionary! I declare to the void and hug these phantom loves that have passed me by. 
Ignore the black hole inside, daunting and unrelenting.
Completely resigned. To watch my deepest connections die. I’ve eaten helplessness on dirtier surfaces. 
How broken and embittered I sound! When truly, I’ve never met happier a soul. My laughs run smooth, my lips prefer a smile. 
I jest and delight in all the simple things.
But while my fields yield flowers, these roots are founded in darker places. 
In a crowded room, it’s impossible to individualize. 
It’s why madness is the climax of isolation. 
Who are you when the curtain falls? 
It’s to the ear of silence that you lend your loathsome thoughts. 
The painful reflection steadfast in searching for more in a shallow surface. 
Once I lend myself to the wind, embrace the nothingness of free fall, I find the climax of isolation is lechery, 
The lonesome kind consisting of nothing but the folds of your mind. 
I long for this tune, oh so beautiful and haunting. 
Taunting that holy light yet coaxing it closer. 
Smothering my thoughts in liquid honey, and  exceeding its welcome.
Betraying my resigned loneliness with phantom touches.
Igniting my shame and steeling my faith 
Resurrecting the slain and sheathing disdain
Leaving me in isolation all the same.
No tangible finding I may gleam. 
For on the edge I remain, of a cliff all the same.
A climactic edge of forgettable unforgettableness. 
Of reckless safety and prideful shame. 
Dancing with madness with no partner in sight, a loathsome existence of brilliant light and tired sadness.