Blind Assumtions

Doesn't it look great? Doesn't it look fun?
I don't have much to show for everything I've done.
It looks so easy, breazy, as if anyone could do it.
People can't see the history of just me.
How its formed a black hole completly devoring my soul.
Covered in gashes, slashes, scars that wont heal,
leaving a mess that seems like a cruel test
I can't put to rest.
Day by day I pull myself up, walking, talking,
showing only thin layers of whats inside.
Some good, bad but mostly fun times are had.
The small things, simple things help lift the wieghts
trying to block my light.
Night after night I feel so free
for it's the darkness that speaks to me
It calm's me, sooth's me, let's me out,
I no longer feel the need to scream, yell,
curse the world out.
For all the hate subsides as a peacefull bliss arises,
and my twisted dark soul releases all it's spit
by becoming one with Night til that first light
when she has to quiver, wither fall back out of sight.