The madness that doesn't grow Does not fully consume me, That keeps alive the useless sanity.
The madness that exhibits the unreal, Making everything else real.
The madness of being what I never wanted, or wanting what I never was.
This madness, Crazy by lucidity, Wize for losing itself In the meanders of all possibilities.
I am crazy for all inexplicable bets, Crazy to take by uncertain All that my existence proves. Crazy to wake up every day Waiting for the hour to sleep to wake up.
Crazy, yet alive; Alive, yet healthy; Whole, complete, Occupying the spaces With my empty mind, In the infinite Of my tiny madness.