Twisted Mind's

In the shadowed corners of a fretful psyche,

Where reverberations bend like plants laced,

Contemplations winding down in a whirlpool dance,

Trapped in the mayhem of a transient opportunity.

A maze wound from dreams and fears,

With murmurs that gleam like blurring tears,

Every heartbeat roars an empty refrain,

As mental stability wavers on the edge of a chain.

Dreams crash in a striking tempest,

Where rationale and frenzy take on new structure,

Colors drain in a dreamlike hug,

Painting the material of existence.

What's genuine and what's nevertheless an illusion?

In the tangled strings of a psychological composition,

Faces show up in the murkiness of misery,

Recognizable outsiders sneaking, ignorant.

Broken appearance in broke glass,

Epiphanies won't stand the test of time,

Reverberations of giggling, a clashing sound,

Floating like smoke in the air all over.

However in the profundities where murkiness lives,

A glint of trust in the heart withstands,

For each bent idea can track down a way,

To mesh an embroidery from night into day.

So let the tempest rage, let the storm thunder,

For inside the unrest, we'll track down another element,

A flexibility brought into the world from the battle inside,

An excursion of shadows, where light can start.

In the labyrinth of the brain, both contorted and wild,

There lies the insight of the unchained kid,

For in the confusion, we figure out how to be free,

Embracing the sections that shape you and me.

Also, however we might meander through shrubberies of uncertainty,

We'll explore pathways that life spreads out,

With turned personalities as our directing string,

We'll line together the fantasies that we've taken care of.