The cry’s of the lustrous lark of life

I open my dreary eyes and awake to the pitiful depressing sound of The lustrous lark of life crying out its blue tears of time. That pours into the black blank cauldron Of my mind and then The Long strong spoon of my conscience Starts to stir the insufferable idea of death that drains my mind dry of any meaning .now my mind believes that it has no alternative purpose of being ruthlessly pitched Into this narcissistic Conceited snowglobe that is engulfed by the Tremendous dome Made with the glass of high society's sensitivity trapping the snow of insanity and leaving it to constantly rain upon this horrid yet happy wild wooden house of humanity. And my mind sees only one solution but is to terrified to take the chance to dance with the dark demented demon of death. And venture into the the unknown realm of the enigma.