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Waltz of Madness

I lie in bed, bound by heavy, black chains; Many eyes peering into the window. I laughed at them, for they are mere shadows; Ethereal, unreal, and sordidly black. The shadows, dancing around in a waltz Making a kaleidoscope of colors; Mocking me with the memory of a Waltz that I was supposed to dance with her. Yet here I am, crying out of despair I could only laugh in the irony And bask in the sensations of madness; Of various sounds and sights moving around, Only that they’re of my own creations Made by my own weakened and fragile heart Whose soul has been shattered beyond repair.



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