The Description Of A Cloudy Mind

Fog fills the tunnels,
of this empty mind,
where time has no place,
and people lack face.
Here, time is still,
yet things move so fast,
or they don’t move at all.

These rhythmless cogs,
turn doesil,
whilst images quickly fade,
in my fragile mind.
One drop and I’m gone.

Gone, gone, gone.
Where has time gone?
Where have you gone?
Who else will go?

Let it be known:

That I am not strong;
I am of fearful heart,
terrorised by the same nightmares,
the nightmares of a broken child,
but it must be told:

that time has no right here;
days blur to weeks,
weeks blur to months,
months to years;
yesterday can feel like yesteryear,
and yesteryear only yesterday.

That speculation creep the corners,
of my panicked temperament,
raptures any sense of relaxation,
and eliminates the carefree.

That I do natter;
I moan and I cackle,
my heart is as fragile,
as an elder held shackled.

That my soul is cracked on through;
it’s wrecked my head, and my heart too,
it wrecks havoc with my perception,
leaves me open to sorry correction.

I don’t know where I am.
I don’t know where I’m going.
I fall from place to place;
I fall from time to time;
I hold on to every place;
as I fall through the empty space,
that is this clouded mind.

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