Breathless disaster

A creation in a uncreated mind, both ignorance and bliss are the wonderful friend that pulls the cloth around their heads, oh how they dance!
it's cunning wind blows their bodies to another, and how great an intoxication,
forgetting the cuts and bruises that never clot, for what pain does one feel when our medicine hits our souls and retards our hearts,
How lovely it is to hold sin upon our hands, as their tears fall upon them,
why should they care? All battles lost in a endless war, for nothing to feel,
for in the mornings awakening their demons come alive, for nighttime shall we wait?
Defeat is in a short manner, for oblivion is what keeps them awake, oblivion keeps them happy and digs their graves. Oh what a wonderful thing!