Crazy is the word sent to my name
life belonging to my self, undone.
Flames that burn nothing but my senses
fire that consumes all but the nothingness
Still. Quiet. Remains.
Angry is the feeling bursting out of my body
when it sat there, waiting
clasping its hands like unprayed prayer lullaby
going and coming with the outsider’s sounds
like nothing else, within my walls existed.
No life to live, nothing to share
Yet. Still. Quiet. Remains
the waiting. The hoping. The unsaid words
spoken to my mind, heard by the keys of type
of that of my own.
Crazy is the day I wake up in the life of the world.