A Pattern of Disillusion [Poem]

[Underground_Network]

A constant yearning for a path to happiness,
Gets you nowhere.

Cast iron! Cast iron!
It's all a part of a greater reality,
A drastically dramatic irony,
Cast out by the near-deceased.

And now as the steel hits the ceramic tile,
A scream is heard in the pitch black night.

A serenade is what a helpless child would call the scream,
A call for help is what a tortured teen would describe it as.

A person with some sense and a little bit of alcohol in their system
Would realize the falseness of the situation,
That the scream wasn't a scream at all,
And that darkness isn't a darkness at all.

Cast iron! Cast iron!
Cast out the irony of our lives
In the form of dark spirits,
Spirits that live and die,
Simultaneously.

It's a disease some say,
That allows you to perceive the imperceptible,
I simply describe it as a series of disorder,
A constant yearning for a path to happiness,
That gets you nowhere.

I follow a pattern of disillusion,
A description of the inevitable,
That is bound to never occur,
And where does it get me?
Well, it gets me somewhere,
And I sure as hell ain't happy,
And I've learned not to yearn...
Because it burns.