I searched the world for something

To make sense of what I’d seen.

The hopelessness of harmony

At once, revealed to me.

The glory of Discordia,

All that my eyes can see.

Bring your golden apple to my lips,

I’ll bite in, happily.

And let the world go spiraling

Into your sweet catastrophe.

Because disorder is your blessing

And somewhere in the mess,

 Is my confession,

Buried deep.

I never thought I’d find you

Eris, rising over me.