The senseless meaninglessness of existence

Does not detract from the reality of it.

The sorry compromise that is our modern life

Coated with the gold paint of unawareful bliss

That flakes over years to reveal

Rotting, dying, bleeding wounds of the soul

Sometimes, one yearns to put out the candle

But others burning brightly, are snuffed out instead

Funny isn't it, this existence called Life?