WASTE LAND

His eyes were a shadow of the blackest night. His smile had the saddest insight.
He would suppress anything pleasant as his heart was torn away amongst the light of the elegant moon. His emotions on the edge of explosion were hidden behind the irie calmness of his face. He was sure to break. The final straw had been drawn, time was the pressure pumping the blood through his veins, yet he maintained calm. But the hour had come of when his pain was due to resurface. He closed his eyes.
Passing vibrations would have been corrupted, as his sorrow was so in duesive. But he regained concentration and disposed of all of thoughts, no matter how prominent. For once in his life he had made a real effort to get accustomed to realities at hand. As he cleared his mind, he came into realization that in order to gain his deepest wish, he must first become selfless.
 
All the things people had told him in the past were now falling into place as unexpected situations befell and challenged every new experience; their collective advice was most beneficial in that moment of his life. It crippled his ego to allow himself to reduce the anger. It was like as if the calmer he thought, the more his ego deteriorated into the waste land of human flaws.