Mind is a word
that paints a million pictures;
a blurred world becoming absurd
while voices faint with strictures.
Trapped in a cell with nothing but dust,
I feel fearful and qualm.
Study me closely to earn my trust;
observe my breath's swirl, before rings my alarm.
Why are thoughts so loud?
I sometimes wish they could get out of my head.
Constant screaming voices almost like a crowd;
I should not take your advice or else I'll surely be dead.
In a murky muddy place excavated by social spaces
are suppressed delicate yet cruel things.
Twinkle, gambol and dashes
lodged deep within, a star sings.
A quirk of the head, a sideways glance,
its dulcet song merges with the voices;
twisted whispers and shadow figures dance,
a delusional cacophonous symphony appears.
Mind cavorting like a puppet,
now is time to blow out the trumpet!
Shame, blame, guilt, resentment,
yet convinced I'm content.
Have a look at the world where
hopelessness is left omnipotent!
Execrable slaves with no share
disguise their pain in predicament.
Why should we even care?
In the end, continues the blare;
we will sadly cave and crumble
beneath the waves, where ceases the mumble.