Trouble Revels

I'm sitting on a bomb again,
to smother out the sound...
The tics and tocs reverb within,
the calmness that is found. 

For here I live a double life
and cover what is wrong. 
The face I show betrays the strife
and struggle to belong.

The hills I climb are mine alone, 
for its peaks are only level,
with the tops of each and every cliff,
from which my shadow bevels.

My simplest joys in life are rare,
and when fleeting, trouble revels.
for life, itself, is rarely simple
And in details lives the devil.