What a place it must be
locked in the mind of your mind,
from where it is your subconscious rears up
and seeps over your eyes,

solidifying,    
as all that is commonly referred to as normal
spreading over your taut skin

the drying of tormented tears ,
set like stone from the barren years,

no release from the psychotic prophecy,
lynched to your own lucid lunacy

the thoughts within a thought where the reason is twisted,
only in your terms is your logic listed

every inhalation,    
a vessel for the next
evocative emotions' emancipation

a fastidious frenzy of fermenting fears
and of premature precognition

setting fire to a flame,
with your verbal misrepresentation

lost and locked in the designs
of the unfathomable you portray

the filter is blocked,      
the valve has stuck open,    
and a tsunami is on its way