Come, accompany me, retrace the pulchritude
ground on which I descend.
Laced within the habitual beds of existence,
lies authentic annoyance.

It is not green, it is not black or even grey.
He executes its prey in subjective ways,
overbearing the luminosity of happiness,
until one finally succombs to irritation.

The potentate rays of sun will not prevail against this mysterious force.
For he will engulf his victims with scorching flames,
as their consciousness falters to smother the deadly-blaze.

Hiding beneath the falsehood of content,
annoyance will peer through his protective mask,
only to glare at the imperfections of the world.
No longer will he jive in the companionship of happiness,
or escort the motives of self-control.
Rather, he begins to hijack the very makeup of the mind.

Once seeking gratification,

one will be drawn to the demented side of prosperity.
Faltering under the tenacious grip of bitterness,
success is transformed into jealousy.

Day to night.

The ability to withstand dissatisfaction, to utter incompetence.
However, the journeyman perseveres
with the likeliness of advancing towards more fruitful days.

When an individual overcomes the bearing claws of the beast,
all becomes apparent.
The monster of annoyance is not an external force.
Instead he resides inside oneself.

He is not a particular color,
nevertheless,
has enough force to place his sufferer into a web of carnage.
Often without previous cautions.

Stalking is the hobby of the animal,
lurking in the shadows of delirious minds.
He chooses his victims.

One by one.
Precious or not.

He heaves the poor souls into the reality of the real world,
with a minute expectancy to make it out unscathed.