INSANITY

MY mind is like a flying object, Seeking the correct position, To plant the roots of my existence, Seeking through the minefield of sparkling, Crystalized images;

Glittering in the reflection Of the burning fireball burning so Bright,

Every action comparing the movement, Like a breathing chest, Is it fiction or reality?

Every image envisioned forms to its truth, Only my alienated mind intercepts, Wraps them to derisions of my own expressions, Rhythmically dancing, Yet not moving at all

Is my PSYCHE playing tricks With the vision that becomes, Projected into the windows of my soul

Now all appears normal; Yet my wondering mind is a whirlwind of thought, What is reality? What is fiction?

Compared to the world, As I have experienced it; The way that this object is imprinting, Images into my mind;

Not yet understanding, What the true meanings are