The Cask of Eigengrau

Is there any other reason for creators to create besides outside validation? 

Less attention 

Less creative

More complacent 

Malfunctioning electric small appliance

His is a silent epilogue (yet alive - like a wound) 

In time, people will forget he was even a person

If he's saved, it will be out of the spotlight

Void of pride, without anything to defend 

The silent cathedrals of melancholy crumble, leaving nothing but an impression of farcicality 

The blood moves in storms like a creature 

Drive backward, be absolved, become unflesh 

A child of coffee and cigarettes 

The colour of the demon's throat as it's about to swallow him whole 

(What uneasiness lies in being loved)

Something wicked this way comes 

Squeamish flower trimmed out of life - a gutter feast charm 

(As daily as depression can let him)

Makes himself up as he goes along

Unmakes himself as he drifts behind 

Tempting cliffs 

Eerie for its absence of feature 

Assigned himself an unusual insignificance 

Do not try and bend the spoon - realize there's no spoon instead 

He pours himself forwards pause set melts and pours again in a looping flow

There are miles of him in a pinch of soil 

He passes trees passes trains passes houses 

He leaves himself behind 

Going downhill

Only to crash.

(Utterly peculiar yet wholly unimportant) 

The words he longs to say turn to ash in his mouth.

The rush of footsteps never come -

The door is never thrown open -

Das Trinklied Vom Seine Jammer