emocorescreamo

Calmness of the never-ending, desolate night is no stranger to me,
Time and time again I find myself in the darkness of this solitary cranny,
My contentious ways seal the fate that will befall my unorganized plan,
As if it were meant to be, I again find my head slumped into the palms of my hands,
A familiar, self-sympathetic tear trickles down my cheek,
Thoughts of opposites remind of what could be,
But it is not who I am, I cannot wear that faade,
Loneliness is what I need; it is what makes me so odd,
This single being that I am will forever keep asking:
Is this confinement unto myself my ultimate destiny?