Concerto of Psychosis
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This is based on a real story of how someone dear to me, someone i love experienced psychosis. An individual diagnosed with bipolar disorder can sometimes go through psychosis and during such episodes they experience, delusions, hallucinations and worthlessness. It all varies amongst individuals. But this poem is written based on what Id seen closely and from what my loved one explained.
I write about these things, to raise awareness.
We never know what someone is going through. So lets always stay kind.
Written for the contest sponsored by Constance La France
“Psychotic hallucinations, whether they are visual or vocal, they address you. They accuse you. They seduce you. They humiliate you.
They jeer at you. You interact with them.”
Oliver Sacks
This is not an illusive myth,
this is my unspoken tale,
woven in infernal syllables of sorrow,
of how I lost my sanity~
once upon a blood moon,
exhausted by the ghosts of my past
that kept knocking on
my crippled conscience,
forcing me to f l e e …
find my way to
a field of fragrant roses,
where the serpentine fangs,
flipping pages of ticking psychosis,
are but a forgotten dream
within a walking nightmare. …
I am a restless riot of emotion,
whirling within a vicious cycle
of deranged demons,
listening to the sizzling silence of lily moon,
as jade jewels of jinxed midnight~
form a hypnotic choir of celestial fairies,
orchestrating a cosmic symphony,
to align the cracked constellations
between your crestfallen skies and
my satanic seas
flowing with merciless mantras,
summoned by sinister flames.
I’ve seen the devil crawl and dance,
to the rhythm of my obsidian fears,
while whispers of nocturnal shadows
echo in refrains from familiar lips,
singing about the way I lost the
tune of tranquility.
They may say I am an
uncontrollable maniac,
a luscious psycho on the run,
if only they knew,
I’m lost in a galactic field,
astral waltzing, through a realm
of musical manifestation;
sleeplessly seizing the moment
where colors of insomnia
unfurled a fiery ambiance,
as questions multiplied in abundance,
and the only solution to my equation
remains within the unhinged
abyss of obese obscurity…
and I ponder, poetry spoken
between two silhouettes
swirling in ivory mists~
would it be touched by the sun and stars?
Would I then burn in hellish lies,
is this now my destined fate
etched for an eternity?
Who was I before darkness found
its throne within my castle of angst?
I knew not the gateway to
attain periwinkle peace,
yet my kin; the blood to my flesh,
the iron to my bones,
the skin of my ink,
heard me plead on my knees,
to the almighty above,
release me from this reckless cage,
unchain me from the churning
chamber of uncertainties,
let me rise as the Goddess of Lunar,
adorn greying horizons with
silvery sequined serenity,
for I’ve seen the flickering stones of
twilight mourn for my illustrated ruins,
and I dare not challenge the borders
between truth and fiction.
So tonight, I surrender
to the vexatious creatures,
consuming these midnight musings,
lurking like tyrannical leeches,
trolling through tormented tunnels.
But what is light without darkness,
strength without weakness?
We find ourselves buried deep
within a bed of inescapable madness,
searching for hope in dungeons
disregarded by mere deprivation.
Copyright © Ink Empress | Year Posted 2024
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