The dim light rotates through the room,
from a pane glass window, standing the test of time,
I sit and wonder on things unknown,
delve into the deep conscious of inconsistency,
all things being, all things alone.
and death walks with all men,
he just walks a little closer to me.
these moments of clarity, are my moments of insanity,
my vibrant imagination, painted think in red ink,
on padded walls, straight bars, and white fabric,
we are all unclean, we are all the divide,
a clear cut act of defiance to rule us all.
I will not go, for I am free,
and from slumber I've awoken,
to retake me.
I hear it coming,
time opts to tick by,
click, tock, go the hands of clock,
spinning in the gyre
loose and uninviting.
No comments:
Post a Comment