Insane Poem by Daniel Thomason

My heart is higher than an eagle's breath,
that falls yet flies like the mist from a waterfall,
Each feather falls above tumult pageants,
cavorting from the sky for the love of the wind,
Nails that scar are the posters of the evening,
and the stage is crafted from blackened firewood,
The crowd is a painted clown from the well beneath yonder,
so their clothes are damp and each clap is a splash,
And for my heart that can't take such a degenerate game,
abandons my breath in a cloud where it is sanely trapped,
Now from the sky where my heart was so high,
Like the water from the cliff I violently fall.