One night I sat down and started writing random stuff. Before I knew it, this poem had emerged. I’d never really written poetry or anything, so was surprised to see the completed piece. Take what you will from this, it’s just a poem, none of these are actually thoughts I’ve had. I am interested to see what you think the poem could be talking about. Some have said mania, others have said insanity, panic, others have said depression.
Through the endless grey I creep, bare feet on cold stone.
Icy fingers caress my bare skin, unseen whisperings call my name.
Doors swing unhinged, as I step through the unknown.
Thoughts are mangled, am I going insane?
Around another lonely corner I creep,
Hoping I’ll soon wake from this terrible deep sleep.
Windows are shattered,
Like my thoughts which are tattered.
Walls warped, ceilings leant
I’ll keep on walking until I find what’s meant.
Things may not be as right as they seem,
I’ll keep on pushing till I wake from this dream.
Try as I might, I just can’t break free,
A part of me wonders what’s happening to me?
Onward and upward I’ll push through this land,
Hoping that someone will come take my hand.
With each worn out step I take,
I’ll use my last breaths to pray for escape
When I am free I will sing just one song,
Of how I desired so much to belong.
In quiet tones they’ll ask and they’ll wonder
What of the monster that dragged that soul under.