The Next Poem I write...

The next poem I write will have sorrow,
Sorrow so deep that you'd wish you would have been left behind
The sorrow in my head "Why have I done this? How can I fix it?"
The next poem I write will have misery in it too,
And all the tears from the heavens above; and an immense body of darkness,
Beneath the fallen sky.
The next poem will have a black room, and a black light in the middle, emptyness will fill the room,
Alone and empty nothing by the window.
Alone and empty, a cloud of darkness.
There will be anger in my next poem; and the light of red burning within me
The sorrow and anger will consume eachother.
Oh, the next poem will be dark and dreary
But there won't be any happiness in that poem.
I've lost that feeling