Philosophy of a Degenerate

Second poem I've ever written.

Fire, burning, killing inside
Too many drugs, my brain is fried
Raging, hurting, my life is a lie
Why do I even
Bother to try?

Reason, truth, it has forsaken me
If it's part of the logos, is it not meant to be?
Perhaps it's not logos, but chaos I see
Nothing but chaos
Surrounding me

Truth, it now seems, is not so clear
My heart, my mind, they are filled with fear
Fear for the future, for the future is near
The future is now
So I shed a tear

Nothing, I see, will ever change
Happiness, it seems, is outside of my range
But that's fine, I think, but is that strange?
to be fine with nothing
seems okay

Socrates, Diogenes, what would you say?
If you were alive, with me today?
You would probably say that, I'm pretty f*****g gay
Oh well, I tried
That's the best I can say.

Author's Note

So yeah, another cruddy poem. Take from it what you will. Just need to get these feelings out somehow.