Pastel Swirls Of Madness Poem by Ray Sinclair

Framed, alone, white vast space —
I first saw you
heard you scream.
On a wooden bridge, forever trapped
beneath blended swirls,
seething blue pastel —
orange, red blended sky.
Disturbed, demented, deranged.
Who are you?
Paranoid, petrified, panic
never ceasing fear— mind runs,
chased by black shadows.
Hands shield ears
Piercing torment comes
within or without?
Pastel figure, I have felt your pain.
I know you.