Dark Arts

is it really the pursuit of happiness, if happiness doesn't exist?

Our minds tend to wrap around thoughts we don't understand

What we don't understand, leads to more danger

We will live our lives wishing and hoping

Thinking if we do it hard enough, all our greatest fantasies will come true

Only to be doing the same thing since day one

Until we're in our death bed

Happiness is a figure of the human mind

It doesn't exist, just our "intelligence" giving a run for it

What's the point of the pursuit of happiness, if you are just chasing your tail?

Tell me when faced with your deepest fear, the ugly creatures in the world

Are you really not just looking into a mirror?

Embracing one's impurity, murder, and you think

You plan, you think it over and over again if you can actually do it

And when you discover you are the one holding the knife, is it this surreal feeling that haunts you

You waste your life in a fantasy world, you hope and wish, even become consumed

Consumed by something that does not exist

We are obsessed with the mundane, the strange does not compute

The broken hold onto the strange, make it part of their being, the pain reminding them how mundane they are

We make stories to make ourselves feel better, even if they do worse

But what lies behind the door of death, scares us all

We want to live, we want to die, we want to worry about what's on the other side

If your impurities scare you so much, do you bury them in the fake joy that everyone feels

Seek help, but nothing works, because we are all the same

Happiness is an emotion created devoid of the human race

We are scared of our true nature

We want to be our creations, in stories and magazines, in movies and plays

So where do we go from here?

Author's Note

The human reality is twisted, and those who embrace it are evicted. There are others who get too swamped up in the fake realities we make, that they lose themselves. Happiness is a lie, but we all are lies.

I was thinking about how a few teenager girls became so obsessed with slenderman they actually stabbed and killed another girl saying it was for his bidding. Also another case where a girl stabbed her mother claiming that Slenderman told her to do so. So I made this rather darker poem.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

"We are scared of our true nature
We want to be our creations, in stories and magazines, in movies and plays
So where do we go from here?"
Easy to want other places and life. The above stated the truth and I did like the question at the ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Rene Salinas]

Interesting Seimei, not only the way this unfold and keeps you focused but also some of the questions that come about after reading your writing. I for one think it is good for oneself to keeo a certain amount of reflection. It brings about a healthy state withouts transforming that into the only thing you do. As once reflection has ended I guess one would have to engage the will and act accordingly.

Thankyou Seimei

Food for thought