Delusions Can Be Comforting

My delusions make me happy so I hold them close, and never in front of the cold light of reason, where they would be blown apart. Perhaps that's the path I need to take to find joy in this world: I am hopeless in the eyes of truth, so I tell myself beautiful lies that make sorrow digestible and agony the seed of immeasurable joy. I really have no other choice. So how do I keep the dream alive? What madness makes me have to try? In the darkness I wander alone and wherever I stop I call it home. Never again to see the sun shine down on my bones

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