the low loud murmur of a filling theater,
up to its capacity,
though not an audience to watch a play,
just actors of reality,
they all wear masks to hide their intentions,
their true identity.

a never ceasing suggestive satire,
forcing reverie,
an ever present wanting whispering,
my head's insanity,
this crowd of voices inside my mind,
are all just imitating me.