Manic Melancholia
Manic Melancholia
He flew high as a kite with no ceiling concealing his madness
A hawker plying his trade with all prayers lost preying on reason
Sold out flapping wings and the wind soaring no sores attached
No strings yet a puppet found but not lost scraping skies all in one
He struck the most delirious chords strangled the care of his mind
A hanged man falling a bruising garrotte noosed losing the plot then
The parachute opened on impact buried the mania deep under cover
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment