The Maestro Poem by Lynn Stillman

The night,
so endless.
Having such an apathetic influence
over the conscious mind.
You are not alone.
These words I remember,
as I sit alone here in the darkness.
My mind is out of tune,
the thoughts in my head ramble,
without rhyme or reason.
Like an orchestra with no direction.
The crescendo moving
towards the very peak of insanity.
The baton will now be passed
to my heart,
the only true maestro;
I must follow it's lead.