The unlockable madhouse of joy

Have you ever cried over happiness?
'Tis a strange feeling.
To mourn joy in abstinence,
Shed tears over images of the foreseen
As if they were present,
Though one which just passed by
In the absence of time.
Have you ever been abstinent?
Felt the shell of a cold diziness
Embrace your sight
Like a tight silk jacket
Around the remains of life?
This is how one feels
When death presents itself to gladness;
The poisoning mixture allows space for grief only.
And saileth winds of madness
Inside the swirling mind of the lonely -
For lonesome, and lonesome alone,
Cometh riding for those who know
How to mourn that which is unmournable,
To cry for that which demands laughter
And end up locked from the inside.