Surveyor of the Night

I am the surveyor of the night.

Darkness creeps within my bones and

whispers of sorrow slink through icy veins.

The pain of those surrounding me

fills me, enters my aching soul,

until I no longer know who I am.  

My lungs expand with toxic tunes,

the cries and curses of many

mixing together into a cocktail of misery.

I decide to drink it in slowly –

for me, there is never enough.

The drunk tragedy that I am is

forever sheltered away from

shimmering lights of morning,

and an evil breath escapes my mouth,

permeating flawless air until it changes

into an atmosphere of death.

Remember me,

tormented in this wretched state,

for I am the surveyor of the night.

I even haunt myself. 

(I started with something a bit creepy, folks. I hope this doesn't scare you away!) :)