Silently screaming,
at my vaulted ceiling.
Short cicuits prevalent,
in my maelstrom mind.

Twisted devilry trappings,
just praying for release,
from mis-firing neurons.
I'm clawing towards salvation.

Windowpanes rattle,
symphonies of white-noise,
reaching my ears; overtly,
a testament to solitude.

My corbon-copy existense
steers away epiphanies.
Juxtaposing reality,
into 3X5 regrets.

01/29/2004

Author's Note: Written during a bout of insomnia...

Posted on 01/31/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies