a short... parody

black, the world is black
dark, depressing angst
o! woe is my tormented soul
my pain so deep and sharp
alas, the pen cannot hope to show
all the levels of my blackened soul

violent thoughts, my pain becomes
your pain, and i lie here thinking
how best to torture you, perhaps
i will write another poem -

surely, my angst is not known enough

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Severin, in the year 155 MA.