Insanity Poem by Christopher Thumwood

Eyes that burn unending rage; engaging yet repugnant, hollowed eyes that i espy which flood me with discontent.

The twisted green and mottled brown of the iris pool, a lazy current dragging all into oblivion; shadow black with mirror shine and island all alone, An emptiness that oozes saline poison.

The hooded frames that never close, unblinking devils pink; Hooks of black a lash that bends, flexed to strike which never cracks.

Voices float with careless ease, echoes of a past that may not or might have been. Clear for all that care to see, these contenders for conscious all there save long drowned self.