Distorted thoughts

My BRAIN sends chilling impulses

throughout my living corpse,

My HEART sends fire to my veins —

entangled I am, with my distorted thoughts.

I no longer can clearly tell

what is real and what is distorted,

All of my existence now is a shadow,

shallow it is, and my soul is haunted.

I played with crayons when I was younger

but now I know what is to be blue,

It is not about color, you see,

thoughts feel unreal, and I have no clue.

“I am: yet what I am” an unsolved mosaic of

living hell, n’ these lingering thoughts,

A crossword of a myriad of shaded squares,

caught in-between the existential loop knots.

There was once a warm feeling that took over me

but YOU, why wert thou becoming the villain? —

Left behind in demons’ realm with an empty heart,

broken wings, scattered feathers. The Fallen —

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