The arrival of the morning

Chains to the floor, burn this world away, forget the pain and forge a new life, a new lie. Describe me reality, focus on the details, drain all you can from the colours and shapes, in the end you'll see your surroundings in a total different way. In a second you'll see the world like me, all fading away, turning to black. Hopeless, struggle to come to the surface. Now see that life isn't the same, your past is an illusion of comfort you created. Empty shell, how do you dare to walk through this earth without destination or a place to call "home"? How come you're just another one but not a leader of men? You don't guide, you're another sheep among the flock that eats grass and waits for the dark.
This square is a white trap. It greats me "good-morning" and leaves me mourning for the loss of the night and the consequential fading of inspiration. I die every time I close my eyes, every time I shut my mind. Thoughts that slip away, construction walls around my conscience, making me unable to accept flaws in others and think of anyone else but myself. So I reach my arm to the air and hope that a celestial being grabs my hand and pulls me away from the pit where I drown more and more. They grab me but I let myself fall. F#*k the change, comfort is if your mind is at ease. And I'm most at ease when I know where everything is and what everyone thinks. I don't care much for the same old thought that comes from those narrow minds, everyone else around me grows into their own state of vegetation in my mind. And there they stand, until another morning comes.
I've been breathing this same old air for some months now. It has intoxicated my own definitions and crossed out all my pre-determined conclusions of life. It now clouds my judgement and unables me to walk in the mornings through the street, all around strangers. But there's a window here. It's completely shut so that the poison doesn't get out and to stop the rain to conquer my room. The thunder fall outside and illuminate my walls to show the nothing that I've attached to them. The rain is powerful and the wind is like a whip that cuts my skin. Together they conquer the skies and earth and even strangers leave their malice inside, in the same closet where they hid their souls. Now the night conquers the mind and what is left is the conscience that another day is to come and words slip away. Time to close the eyes, go to sleep and die one more time, eternally.