BY John Yelling
As time slows, I wander through the abyss of confusion,
the chaos of my own mind
I am trying to sort out what is absolute and
what is contrived from my own imagination.
Not as easy as it would seem.
The line between my conjured paradise
and the authenticity of my reality
has long escaped me.
Now I wander,
looking for some kind of assurance,
a guarantee that what I am seeing,
what I am living,
Or is it that I have been away for far too long,
Reality no longer recognizes me,
she longer welcomes me into her arms.
I am turned away.
Insanity is there waiting, hoping I will look his way
and I do because I know I am accepted there.
I know under Insanity's spell, there is no need to go about aimlessly
no room for self doubt.
In Insanity's embrace you are insulated
from life's instabilities.
From the anguish of failure,
the wretchedness of being lonely.
Still time slows, I am no longer wandering
no longer questioning
I am safe with Insanity' protection
and now I lay