I sit here looking at a wall
Wondering what it says
It sees everything
Eyes to an open book
Confused, obscure
Facing the change
Shattered voice
In the mind of the insane
A meer cackle in the voice of the meek
A change embued with hate
Power, and malice
Contorting the inept with no hesitance
Steel grip on the heart with no soul
Caliced as a rock on a snowy field
White, without life
Color drained from it veins
Throbbing left at a slow murmur
Inside, I have died |