It's difficult to explain,
The madness of a silent mind
Words fall short when the angst comes pouring out
What is left is broken frames of then and now
Revisits and remembrances,
Spurting in sporadic sparks as if from a rusted spout
What happens of the insanity?
The shrill screams and the silence in vain?
It's a melodrama of the pain of quiescence
It's the schmaltz of the comfort of gash
Beyond, into the serene numbness
The peace in its elusiveness
It's a journey from the peaks to troughs
and the peaks again, and then the troughs
Untill one day you hit an empty space
Thereafter, it's just a buoyant calm
As you gently float through the infamies and the adulation
And all the rest that never stays!
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