Deprecated systems jockeying for position within my mind.
Hello little child are you lost, are you found?
There is no more madness in this touch, the touch of a thousand dreams.
This torch that can be lit, this torch but one of many, matches for the soul.
Smell of sulfur and smoke blackens laying waste to thoughts meant to be.
The fog of illusions used as a filter to screen what may come.
Screams and shocks echo through predictions without thoughts, without mind.
Wishing for the clouds to part to show what is true but they will not.
Windy and cold they blow around you without notice.
The drumming and the beating in my skull is a low steady rhythm.
A rhythm, a hymn to dance to, to sing.
Constant pressure to escape to be let out and you, all without notice.
Slow and sluggish they churn and then speed up.
Super highways of thoughts colliding seeking escape.
Body moving slow and can't keep up, not with this mind.
Advancing in that dance, still following those beats, that rhythm.
The dance of life is a cacophony that seeps from my mind.
Its like an ooze that spreads on the ground mixing and flowing.
Pretty soon my thoughts have their own life, their own dreams.
Of wind and of change they tell and the madness that it brings.