The Empty Title

A poem that gives an inside look at insanity, the silent screamings of repressed minds.

Tireless screams of children long grown
Piercing your mind with slivers of sound
Pounding your skull, dragging you down
Words chasing insanity round and round

The feeble stength of frail birds
Beat relentlessly against your hands
The ashes made by burning words
Scorch the ice on distant lands

Fingers tread where lips do fear
Softly carress the long buried dead
Eyes hollow, empty tear
Gasoline and shadows dance in your head

Your mind repeats the words to itself again and again
Bodies float down to graves they lay in
Denial stains your thoughts like blood and rain
Insanitys obsideon winds tear against your soul in pain

Shadows break through the sun
Wind rips down concrete walls
All are one and one is none
In the end, alls left is the white padded walls