They call it madness

Letting go,

Falling,

Into fantasy.

Reality dims,

But soon,

It will fade altogether,

Disappear.

I’ll wait,

For now.

I’ll lose myself,

In here,

Where there is no pain.

I’ll forget,

That this,

This oblivion,

Of nothing,

Is not real.

It will become so,

In my head.

Many see a glimpse,

Of this place,

In my eyes.

But they don’t realise,

The eyes,

Are just eyes.

They think,

They see madness.

Reality is mad,

But here is not.

My body may,

Or may not,

Be insane.

But I,

In real reality, get away.

From the men,

In white coats,

The prison,

That makes me,

“mad”.

But really,

I’m just scared.

If that is insanity,

Then surely,

We are all mad.

Just something I wrote coz I was thinking about what madness can really be and maybe what someone who is considered mad actually considers what is said to be wrong with them to be. I'll really love you if you leave me a review. Thanks, bye!