Conversation With Insanity

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Hello. How are you?
To whom is this addressed?
Why, to you of course!
Why are you so distressed?
I am, or was, alone.
By what means did you enter?
I am always here, inside your mind,
For now, I’m front and center!
I surely must be going mad.
Yes, of course,
But why do I feel so glad?
Do you not know?
Naturally, it seems.
Despite your reason, this course had to flow.
However, pray tell, why are you here?
The situation at hand demanded it.
Now you must face this madness inside without fear.
The repressed emotion builds up within,
It gradually turns into a swell.
Then finally, things climax deep,
And the herald of insanity rings its bell.
But, why me?
What did I do to deserve this?
A cry of frustration sounds loud in the breast,
And then an inhuman, demonic hiss.
Serpents unfurl and entwine in the void,
The person, entangled begins to squirm.
Their now collective consciousness peaks and then,
Sinks below even that of a worm.
The mad have their moments,
Both the damned and the blessed.
Despite themselves, the world protests,
The strange, newfound reality they then caressed.
Now, define reality, dear reader,
Is it math, reason, or something sensed?
Does it differ from being to being,
Or perhaps it has universally coalesced.





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