The Age of Unreason
Crazed minds in a quest for the truth
It starts slowly as a trickle,
A small drop in the ocean
A miniscule bit, unnoticed, insignificant
I slip away, dark and crazed
Shrieks of a terror prey in my mind
Like an old scratched record
I can’t feel their agony anymore
Numbed by the pain I smile
Sardonic, sadistic,
I hold it within myself
The thoughts I clench,
A drowning man to the last reeds
It offers such hopelessness,
The invincibility of defeat,
Refusing to let go
It bursts within me
Why does it have to end like this…
Is it my destiny?
Or have I crafted it so…
But how….?… why?…
But… it couldn’t….
I sneer at my stupid arrogance,
As I slip past, I see it
The futility of my quest…
To think that I could make sense….
Of this age of unreason.
Leave a Reply