Dark Humour

Thunder claps;
and seems to applaud the hilarity of life's joke,
but it's resonance is somewhat strained.
This pun is too true for the laughter to last.


So it concedes to brood within it's deception,
feigning subsidence until some darker comedy comes about.
And I am that.
For even the dead must spread lifeless grins at my expense
and the condemned shake sympathetic heads at my demise.


If not, then the psychotic audience in my head
must be happy in their solitude.
Otherwise why would they continue to poke and prod
at a life which they seem not to realize is their own ?


My said companions have no substance,
and this in turn incites my hate.
If only to refrain from slashing throats,
breaking necks and gouging eyes.
My response is no surprise.


This place would cause the saintly to review their sanity.
And even then the whispers would remain
goading and persuading, that the actions would allow;
the banishment of feelings that I hasten to unbind.


But in this darkness there is warmth
and from this warmth there comes a fire.
May it consume it's creation.