Where to look

As the insanity of failure grips my ebbing soul once more,
I'm reminded that this isn't the first point it's scored.
I'm shown the colossal enormity of my loss.
And just how much all these failure's cost.
But amidst it all,
despite the terror of the fall,
Their beauty creeps its way back into the mind.
But in my scars is the only truth there, you will find.
Each one an angel in their own right,
each one feeding lies in the night.
Soft and welcoming veils of truth,
upon which I waste my youth.
And for every harlot a beast,
terrible men to say the least.
The only fact to soothe my bitter soul,
is to know they too shall never reach their goal.
Hindered by their blessings ever faster,
and betrayed by their so called master.
they have a lot farther to fall than me,
and their own personal hells are just something I can't wait to see.

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