Release My Mind From Churlish Chains

Sometimes in churlish chains Fed up with ribald refrains On my mind inflicting pains and strains In the morning, afternoon and night When from life I gain no delight Sinking into sorrows on the flight From illusion Conflated with delusion Carved from collusion Between cynicism Pessimism and criticism Wrapped in a veil of wanton witticism That to my ears spells disaster I detect in the voice of a broadcaster Enjoining my mouth to shut up faster Lest lunatics in straitjackets Should unleash explosive packets To pulverize my brain brackets To terminate challenges I mount Day and night whose barbs and blurbs amount To desecration in mistaken impressions tantamount To insults in the eyes of Cyclops Whose evil eye develops An uncanny loathing for emissary envelopes Whose missives send shiver Down spines shorn of silver When Cyclops quiver In their boots At the thought of brutes Taking away ill gotten fruits Cyclops munch At brunch Foregoing at lunch any hunch That predicts winds of change Within my mind no longer strange To vicissitudes Cyclops arrange To counter banter In the encounter Arranged in the canter To ferry freedom Beyond confines the fiefdom I no longer consider part of the inherited wisdom In which I found comfort From every report emanating from the fort I vowed with all my might to support If I should remain sane To reject any arcane Attitude bent on releasing propane To burn my spirit In an effort to treat Ores of sanity with gangrenous grit Hoping to achieve progress While promoting disgrace In the last lap of a stress race.