It’s not insanity, it is what it is.
If you ask me a question, I’ll answer a whole quiz.
Manic, my mind might explode.
If you ask for a thought, you’d drown in my flow.
Terror, It’s there in my soul,
For once this subsides melancholy’ll take hold.
Oh to be normal, on an even keel,
Oh to be normal and not feel how I feel.
Melancholy has taken grip of my soul,
Tears at my heart, my mind, my whole.
It’s lowered its black veil to block out light,
A blanket of gloom against which I cannot fight.
I tried to hide and let it pass unnoticed,
But it heard the tears upon which I was choking.
It claws at my pain carving wounds upon which it feeds.
It finds in me, all it could ever need.
Unhappiness, guilt, A forlorn lack of hope.
When the reality check hit like a rat that jumped boat.
I will look for it again I have to, to survive.
I need that hope or I might as well die.
A victim to reality as dreams are just that it seems.
And melancholy found me, a ripe banquet on which it feeds.