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.
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