Insanity

Written by: Mark Norton

Look to see where insanity breeds on the walls and in the corners,
Where so tranquil a lonely spirit holds tight all that is left;  
The cloud darkened heavens so thick up high, more streaked with black and gold
Waiting, waiting while what remains softly steals in

Bide the time and listen, while insanity grows in quiet places,
Though intolerant words of sympathy retain a weary man, 
His wanton breath strangely clutched between the heart and mind,
To break the mold his hand did hold to wither the hopeless past

In this place insanity breeds in the darkened corners,
Its silent breadth still tightly held in hand for what is left;
With the cloud streaked sky striped with black and gold
Waiting, waiting for what remains to softly steal in