Abyss

The wind that howls in the deepest night
is a comforting sound.
The dog that moans at the earliest light
is a soulmate found.
I abhor the thought of wistful bliss,
of nervous laughter unprovoked.
I slip into my warm abyss,
this sea of pain on which I choke.
I wade in pools of sought despair
while others seek their Mothers.
I dance on floors of rotted wood
and sing to ghosts of lovers.
I find it my salvation
to document this pain;
to analyze the demons
and revel in the rain.
Perhaps one day I'll leave this place
and walk into the sun
to face the light of happiness,
content my deed is done.