Nights like these Accompanied by the howling Not of the wind But of my cranium Slowly caving in We are swayed constantly Like willows in the breeze From perception to perception Until we know not Who we are anymore What is to be believed? Who is the enemy? My thoughts have long formed legs Not two, nor four, but plenty But more is not always merry They struggle to keep their balance But fail So I am Traipsing with tangled feet C l e a r M y M i n d For me Please Buy me sympathetic placidity Buy me apathetic innocence Buy me antipathetic ignorance Anything but what I am now Would be good I dream of blue lakes and clear skies But do they really exist? I sleep in a labyrinth And wake up To the hustle and bustle of escapees We are all but only human We are lost souls We are amateurs grabbing tightly To the manual of How To Live While concurrently Playing God As if we are all that holy I know not what I am I know not what we all are I sleep in a labyrinth And I awaken To a stampede Of people rushing back and forth In a desperate bid to reach the top But the way out of the labyrinth Is not the top Is it? Perhaps I am too easily shaken Too vulnerable for my own good But I could grapple with the notion of self-control And perhaps I really should