Under the cover of night

Death never comes fast enough for those who want it most.
It lingers over like a promise, just out of my reach.
The living have faith, but the dead have truth.
The law grows numb because there was never law at all,
Only what we made of it.

I find no solace even in my sleep,
For that's when the cruelest lesson is learned.
For no matter how sweet the dream,
It cannot last forever.

My mind is home, my mind is my prison.
My mind is an orchestra of a million insanities and redundancies.
And in the end my mind would have been the only thing that lived.

I've buried my sins right below the surface,
Right out of plain sight.
My skeletons yearn to take center stage.
I thrive under the cover of night while my conscience condones in silent consent.

I live in a world of my own creation,
One just real enough to convince me it's not a lie.
I await it's end like a long lost friend.
And when it comes, just know that I am better off.