Everything was broken and poisoned. The light was too bright but had no force. It leached into the deep shadows unenthusiastically, lending a spotted and diseased look to the battle ground between light and dark.
The roses no longer looked like an integrated whole but rather like a collection of random elements stuck together by the diseased light. Sounds were high pitched and painful to the ear.
Escape came only in sleep and slowly the idea of endless sleep became attractive. Poor brain chemistry inexorably translated into a simple series of stereotyped actions that would end the world. If perception caused reality and , though it deeply deserved destruction, destroying the universe was impractical then destroying the perceiver could have the same effect.
Suicide as mass destruction. Fall into a bottom-less pit of sleep and drag the world in afterwards.