My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my mind,
reaching out for answers,
searching for something I left behind.
My memories were here once before
with darkness, screams and pain,
the intense fire of creative spirit
dampened to pulp by a wicked brain.
So where did I leave myself
when I escaped in to my head?
I've deconstructed the mental walls
to discover the places I had fled.
Between. Betwixt. Bewitched. Be still,
a balm to soothe this anxious seer.
My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my fears.
© Pagan Paul (20/05/17)
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