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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I truly can't believe what I am really seeing. In the shadow darkness is there a shadowed being. Open my eyes as wide as can be, to illuminate the night. Questioning my wavered sanity, which brings up this fight. Is what I hear from something near, a real like human voice? I listen in when it begins, I no longer have a choice. I can clearly hear within my own open ears. Pushing on my thoughts, consuming intruding fears. If I ever catch it in the act, this fu*ker shadow that won't move an inch. When I watch, wait and listen, my jaws they begin to tightly clench. But deep within my mind, I know the difference of, that in which I question. Cause in reality and in daylight I realize it's of my own invention. I need to regain control, Take the pills that let me know. That its all in my head. But it always forms itself when I'm lying in bed. I know I heard it aloud and clear, exactly what it spoke. The fact that I am schizo, even without the puddled choke. It's all so mucked up, these voices sound exactly like someone I heard before. Almost like a few of my close friends, speaking beyond a closed door. Talking about things in demeaning words, a conversation that has intention. But I question the reality of the whole thing, cause I know it's my dementia reflection. I shouldn't contemplate the silence within my mind. Cause each time I drift off in a daze, that's when I will find. That these voices of the internal realm. Are really just me behind the helm. Dwell on a spell, I fell in a well, the bell wrung in hell, so I sail with ale, and smell this tale, Then tell this to quell, and as always prevail, prevail, prevail.
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