He found solace in play of words,
As he butchered hope's tiny birds.
He lost himself in the war of words,
As he buried all his mind's swords.
From one insanity to another,
He falls like a broken feather.
His mind runs a thousand times,
On the thought, which eternally rhymes.
Caught in his own mind's treason,
He appears to be single person,
But each moment his is many,
Alas the next moment he isn't any.
His moods swing from left to right,
As his thoughts, he sits to write.
His thoughts jump from right to left,
Until sleep makes his mind's theft .
Me vs Myself |
Submitted for :
And the battle rages on forever...it can't stop for that would mean the muse is lost and so is the writer....explosive thoughts in expressive words. Thanks for the visit. :)
ReplyDeletewell, is this my psyche report? hmmm...awfully close...smiles.
ReplyDeleteOh! I can feel his mania and anxiety!
ReplyDeletehttp://www.kimnelsonwrites.com/2011/06/14/letting-go/
It feels bipolar. I love the line he butchered hope's tiny birds. Really nice piece.
ReplyDeleteGreat use of rhyme, as you set forth with each chime. Yeah a real psyche/ADD type feel to it.
ReplyDeleteOh my my!! Can I identify with this character or what!!! Torn as hell... wheww!
ReplyDeleteEmotions and dilemma brilliantly captured here, Umesh!!
Looks like this could go with DSM IV.
ReplyDeleteIn case you don't know what that means:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagnostic_and_Statistical_Manual_of_Mental_Disorders
Disturbed, interesting, and in some areas, beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThanks J :)
ReplyDeleteWas a bit disturbed when I wrote it.