Whispers of the Mind

The clock ticks louder in the dead of night,Each second stretching, holding tight.A breath caught halfway, a chest too tight,The weight of the world in the absence of light.

Footsteps echo where none have tread,A restless spirit inside my head.Shadows dance where reason hides,Truth and fiction blur their lines.

The heart runs marathons without a race,Each beat a drum, a frantic chase.Hands that tremble, voice that shakes,A mind that bends but never breaks.

I see the words but can’t reply,A million thoughts that pass me by.Frozen still in unseen chains,Trapped inside familiar pains.

Yet through the fog, a whisper low,A voice reminding, soft and slow:“You are not the fear you feel,Not every thought is truly real.”

The sky still holds the coming dawn,The waves still crash but move along.A breath, a pause, a fleeting peace,The storm subsides, though never leaves.

Anxiety lingers, a phantom near,A friend and foe I’ve come to hear.But in its grasp, I find my might—For I have battled, and I have light.