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.