The Five W's

Assuming
We
enter
WHERE
the light sends us
asking not the question of
WHEN
we can hang
the noose
but
WHAT
from
as always
WHO
is
I
in the past tense of being
and
the pitch black
only comforts a finger
from a corpse, an oblong ring,
the rot is
always
a tri-angular love affair
and the
conclusions
oh, those
God damn conclusions!
already drawn
way before
birth
so
HOW
seems to be
the best
WE
can do
caged within
this carnival mirrored existence
leaving just before
dawn
down at the skeleton station
but
for God's sake
WHY?