Turbulent poem

I find myself awake late yet again, alone with my thoughts. My mind is in a fog, unable to think, to perceive, to observe or to listen. I feel as if I wasn't made for this world. This world that's filled with hatred and pain, with malice and violence, I want nothing but to escape it, to be free from it. I try to find peace, happiness, things that'd convince me this world isn't as bad and filled with hurt, only to fail each time. I'm surrounded by many who say they love me yet their words don't reach me, despite their efforts. I feel as if I'm too broken to appreciate genuine words and feelings of other souls, who try their best to reach me. As strange as it seems, solitude and sorrow bring me solice, as if letting me know I'm not an empty shell, despite feeling like it. Just like this letter, stripped of it's linearity and coherence, same are my thoughts, adrift searching for something while looking for nothing. I stand in place to look around, only to find life a vast ocean, a calm one, not a single wave, not a single splash, harboring no life or tune, just me on a wooden sail with my lantern held high above my head, making peace with the emptiness around me that comes as calming to others. A life filled with so many adventures, yet I reap no reward or joy from any. Yet my conscientious ways bind me here, I have debts to repay. Once a youthful fierce flame, that is my passion, now remains an ember. While an ember glows and still provides, serves a purpose, blink once and ash takes it's stead. My life, an ember, a single blink and ash takes my place. Souls mourn but a moment, yet my flame snuffed for eternity. Stone above my head, thorny vines with roses take claim to it, as if love itself refused to move on. Rooted deep in grief and misery, a bloom persists in my resting place.