First poem

The world is a blight, a thorn in my eye Dismissing truth, and never admitting lies, I wish for once, my tale would be happy But Karma insisted, on a tale that ended badly. Twilight's mist, allways catches me unaware Preparing to take over, when i`m weak and in despair, The hopes of the past, is nothing but a breeze Invoking recognition, but only in my dreams. I think i`d rather stop it here, because hope is directly entangled with fear.