On The Dark Verge Of Insanity
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On the Dark Verge of Insanity

My soul is spine-chilling silent. All is mute.
A vortex of sickening emotions
alternating with passive indifference,
to a dance on the verge of mental damage.
I have much to confess and expound,
but I lost my composure and lucid thoughts.
For now my introspections are jumbled
as if I'm in a teasing irresolvable fiery maze.
Am I at best an obscure senseless shadow?

Nothing creeps into my murky misty mind.
Perhaps it is overfilled
with a dismal cacophony of nothingness.
So I hold my tongue despite the urge
to utter profanities.
What is holding me back?
What deleterious demon rides my back?
What is pulling me downwards
towards a cold dark and bottomless sea?
Have my bones lost their marrow?
Is my mind devoid of gray cells?

Emptiness cries for febrile revenge
yet I cling to life by a tapering thread.
I cannot cry, too angry for that.
I cannot yell, a block in my windpipe
as if I'm lost among mountains
where no meaningless echo resounds.
Yet words must be uttered
or I'll go insane.
I'm lost in a world wide web
where there's too much sound.

13 September 2017

Placed 8

In The Dark
N/A
Contest Judged: 9/22/2017 

© Victor Buhagiar . All Rights Reserved.


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