Misery

My body bruised to pleasure the soul,
Agony is a sweet sign of rising in innocence,
The dripping sludge floods my immature dilligence,
When I escape along the path of a new goal,
I feed on human envy when my eyes stare at the dried lungs of life, 
The rustling of wrinkled, brittle leaves drowns out my thinking,
A river flowing steadily through the horizon , constantly shrinking,
And I look at the waterfall of feelings trying to win this one-man strife
The sweetness of my knuckles is the taste of the end of this absurdity
Demons tear me apart inside, but my angelic face turns away your vigilance,
Darkness of my conscience is hidden by a mask of vividness,
And you will watch my leaf fall so greatly gradually as I die.