Ego
The profound stature of
This hill I would die on
Disarms me;
Enveloping me with insidious
Melanalcoholic acceptance.
Sleepless nights become
Displaced, impassive sedation.
Monotony shrieks, bellows.
I bear the years behind me.
Ignore the lies I tell–
I feel them all.
Success robs me of peace;
Failure bats at my brain.
Beat it smooth so that
I may bask in the ambience
Of blissful oblivion.