Misery

In a kingdom full of anguish 
My soul is the abject misery 
My passion the silent hardship 
When my thoughts did torment 
I thought of death
Of unspeakable crimes 
And atrocities 
Those who were deprived of such an earthly pow'r
Those who would no longer
deny demons of such pleasure
"Death!" Chuckled I. 
"Yes death!
Friend to the weak and wicked!
Enemy to the strong and willed!
You alone are the grave reaper!"
By the grave I saw such causalities 
Those who were victim 
To such misery 
"Misery," said I. 
"Thing of adversity!"
On that day my soul grew miserable 
Deep into that darkness hating
Once I sat engaged and disgracing 
I was there my faith 
Indeed Was doubting 
By a hideous creature
Who hid his face
Which was reality. 
"Woe is me!" I cried. 
"My demons at my every wake!
This is thine own hour Death!
Hide your face hence 
From me no more!
My soul I can pertain 
No longer! 
I admit the truth! 
The unbearable, unspeakable truth!
Life is a thing of such misery!
It is the tormentor of my dreams!"