Soft moonlight reveals  

the mammalian shadow

of a hungry bat    

Your existence is a wasteland.

Pain as agony

is mocking its evil twin

of pain as pleasure

Amidst luxury 

the pain of monotony

overshadows joy

If in a hot blaze

or a fluid-like substance,  

it kills and it saves 

It is always there, luring me into what I like to do best. 

I woke, I ate, I slept again.

Many talk the talk

as a shallow escape from

taking on the walk