I hear the pain
stained moaning of people who once was someone. Identity lost somewhere between
reality and their reality. Faded, along with their will to live. Two worlds
fused into one chaotic existence.
Steel bars and heavy gates hiding the forgotten from the
life they once called their own. Frail, in their beds, strapped to the scares
of life, invisible, unbreakable rules keeping them from being alive.
Cocktails of capsules and needles become their savior,
saving them from themselves. Ambivalent to the cocktail that leaves them numb.
Then the acceptance, to feel nothing is more bearable than the haunting ghosts
dwelling through the misty forest of the mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment