#12 of 2021 Mental Health Crisis
A poem that's just a little bit crazy. :D
Madness is wonderful
and madness is kind;
Madness is terrible,
and madness is mine.
Hubris or madness or lunatic high
I have to stretch my wings;
Madness will tell me that I can fly
and that I'll be caught by these things.
Madness is beautiful;
it rents the sky
with the power of the magic I wield.
I step through a gate,
not knowing my fate
and in this, my madness I wield.
My little spark of madness, My little spark of joy, My little-bigger dragon, who knows not yet the sky. My little spark of madness, Tornado sweeping wings, She takes aloft and smiles down and then begins to sing. Her voice may not be...
Padding about inside their locks their eyes seem awfully strange, alien faces with alien eyes and no-one knows their names. Some of their heritages goes so far back. Did they fight? Did they plow? Did they flee? One never knows in those...
My gift is needed here. It waits in the darkness where no one can hear. It holds a candle, always. It loves and it lives and it laughs. It hides, always. It lives without restraint. It cries, crying for all those who cannot. It lies, telling...