Mystic Psychosis Poem by Pat Ashinze

MYSTIC PSYCHOSIS

He was born free, and raised with warm hands
He lived in reality; with great goals and dreams
Then, with no rapt caution or forewarning,
Insanity drowned him whole in its thorny rivers

He was sane; his composure was in good health
Until the dreadful disease of old ate up his brains,
Pierced his consciousness hollow with a damning awl
And ushered his soul into a void of mystic psychosis

He had talents and longed to harness recognition
He was something, a wannabe, a budding cynosure;
Until the unspeakable occurred, and all went sinister
Until the unwanted ensued, and ripped his senses apart

Good Lord! What happened to this once vibrant mind?
What inflicted his psyche and made his mind unsound?
Life! Life happened to him! ! Life twisted his faculties
And scourged his humaneness with her fateful embers

Now he is lost; gone, in a web of neurasthenic thoughts
Laughing and snarling, feasting on dark filth and dumps
Chasing the invincible, and conversing with the unseen
What a loss! His sanity has been banished into exile

He walks nude-bodied, on a journey of many miles
It's not painful; it's ‘normal' in the prison of conscience
Behold ostracism! ! No man can tell him he is insane!
Who would? ! Who wants to be seen with a lunatic? ! ! ..


Pat Ashinze
July 2016