Beyond the corridors of my mind,
Reality begins to unhinge itself.
This unusual distortion disrupts my sanity
While lunacy consumes my rationality.
I am a prisoner to my own psychosis,
And it is easily visible on my semblance.
So I am told.
A false accusation has rendered me helpless,
And the declaration of insanity has been stamped on me.
It is simple to blame those who cannot retaliate.
An accident to my cranium,
Which I assumed only left me mute,
Has apparently altered my ability to think.
I could not rationalize.
I could not realize my wrong.
I could, however, commit the great injustice.
The voiceless have no say of their own,
Though it is said actions speak louder than words.
Perhaps I will communicate through different methods.
Perhaps I will earn the moniker “insane”
This time, it will be justified.
No more will I be confined by chains.
No more will I be restricted by jackets.
No more will I be imprisoned by society.
Vengeance takes the form of spilt blood tonight.
Their discrepancy shall be redeemed.
Madness will be on my side:
The homicide.
The suicide.
as i always say...one must explore insanity to truely know sanity....
Very modern technique. Your thorough analysis of insanity's difficult ways really show in this poem. I sense that you poetry seems to be a little bit like Sylvia Plath's. Are you inspired by her at all? Answer me with message or comment please.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem kind of leaves you a little jagged when you read it... you feel confined, restricted, bound by eviler force that laughs at your pain, and i really like it.