Riddle XXXXVIX

Disassembled zombie,

      Sum of an inspired ever infighting depressed hopefulness that the drones forecast for tomorrow are no spitefully miss mother of hate configured firing venom from the fangs of insecurity! Nothing reaches the hater like flowers they're no harbinger of a butterfly cocooned writhing entirely in emotions of blissful inherited ignorance, Waking are the dead, Despite intolerance's spike... Death is the dream no one can live without, But the forsake-hidden desire a painless invisible noose more than the coma disappearing hope, Blindly injected into the fearless wrought death instead of life.

Because out,
Is often less painful,
Than in...!