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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

(128)

When you’re messing around with insanity,
You know exactly what you’re doing.


The battle-drums he heard in
The back of his head
Was his own panicking heart.
He knew he should have stopped
Long ago
But the sinister smoke flowing
Out from the dark pit in his chest
Never found its way out.
The brightness of his eyes choked itself cold,
Polluting his view.
He knew he was breeding monsters in
The poison that filled the
Cavernous catacombs of his mind.
He knew there was no battle,
Only senseless slaughter in
The war he waged against himself.

But he sought only victory,
A vain vision to stand vindicated on
The corpse of his slain soul
& finally let his pride breathe.

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